


Sunrise

by Emmeebee



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Not Canon Compliant, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmeebee/pseuds/Emmeebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After defeating Victoria, Bella and Edward decide to postpone the issue of Bella's mortality until after they've graduated college. While there, however, Bella starts to question the foundation of their relationship. AU; canon compliant with most of Eclipse. Rated M for non-explicit suggestive adult themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're protective of Edward and Bella's relationship, I sincerely suggest you don't read this. Think of that little bit at the beginning of _A Series of Unfortunate Events_ – if you want good things for this couple, this story isn't going to be your cup of tea. I like the Twilight universe, mostly; I like Bella, sort of; I find it hard to think of Edward (or Jacob, when it comes to being in a romantic relationship with Bella) without internally wincing due to the problems in their relationship. So shippers be warned; here be icebergs.
> 
> On a less metaphorically nautical note, I've tried to use American terminology here because I know it can be irritating when the terminology used is not in keeping with the country the source material is from, but I'm bound to have slipped up at some stage; Wikipedia and Word's language function are my friends, but that doesn't help with the things that are so entrenched in my mind that I wouldn't think to check for cross-cultural differences. Feel free to let me know if there's something that's been Australianised or mixed up. If it's instrumental to the story, I'll most likely leave it and just make a note of it for the future rather than revamping the whole thing, but if it's minor I'll change it.
> 
> Warning: There is a spoiler for _The Giver_ in the sixth chapter of the story.
> 
> Finally, thanks to my lovely, awesome brother for betaing this. I'd be remiss in my sisterly teasing duties not to make use of this opportunity; you might not have read the books, but you've read and betaed a sample of its fanfiction, and I'll always remember that. (Teasing aside, the gratitude is completely genuine, and you're the only one who'd probably find this connection to _Twilight_ to be embarrassing.)
> 
> Originally posted on ff.net on 20 February 2015.

"Which colleges are you applying for, again, Bells?" Charlie asked, his voice reverberating through the living room in his attempt to be heard over the action movie we were watching, or rather that he was watching while I read. The empty plates from dinner rested on the floor beside us, waiting for one of us to hop up and take them back to the kitchen.

"Um, I'm not sure yet," I hedged. It's times like these when I wished I were a better liar, or that Charlie wasn't trained in detecting lies; his eyebrows shot right up, a sceptical look on his face. I would tell him the University of Alaska if I thought I would be able get it passed him, even if I hadn't yet convinced Edward to use it as a cover to change me. Hoping it would decrease his suspicion somewhat, I added, completely truthful, "I'm not sure what I'd even want to study yet."

Fortunately, Charlie merely said, "You'd better get on that, then. You're a smart kid, but deadlines are still deadlines." Regardless of whether or not he really bought it, I was grateful for his brevity.

"I'll think about it," I assured him, my mind focused on ways to convince my stubborn boyfriend that this was what I wanted. He was still adamant about not wanting anyone to turn me, and I was running out of ideas to change his mind. Any reasoning I threw at him was dismissed by his claim that it would eventually ruin my life and probably condemn me to boot.

"That is _not_ realistic," Charlie proclaimed, his attention drawn back to the television by a particularly malicious fight scene. "I don't care how much you've trained or how much steroids you're on, that just wouldn't happen."

I tuned out the description of just why that particular move wouldn't have done what they showed it doing, not willing to be distracted. Distractions beget distractions, so if I let myself be tempted that way I would soon find myself ninety years old and still human, with Emmett laughing his head off whenever he saw me with Edward. No, I had to act. Even if it wasn't the best plan, I had to do _something_.

Throwing myself at a vampire nomad wouldn't work; it would more than likely just result in my death. Going behind Edward's back wouldn't be feasible, either; it would take time and effort to convince any of the other Cullens to do it, and by then he'd have noticed their uncertainty it in their thoughts. Approaching the Volturi was an option, and it would circumvent the prohibition on any of the Cullens biting humans, but it wasn't a good one either. The idea of facing Jane and Aro again was unnerving, it would be expensive, and I'd then have to work out how to get back via a plane full of what would appear to be large, delectable packets of blood. That's not even counting the potential repercussions it would have if the Volturi found out that the Cullens weren't going to change me.

It was a snap decision, but it felt right to announce to Charlie, "I'm going to apply for the University of Alaska." Evidently, I will never be able to become a vampire without Edward's help or permission. He wanted me to go to college? I'd go to college. And, while I was at it, I'd prove to him that I could be happy with just his family, and remind him for all the reasons why changing me would be better than leaving me like this.

"That's great," he replied, his eyes still fixed on the TV. "Wait. Isn't that a bit far away?"

_No; that's the point, Edward won't ever change me if we're close enough for you to notice the difference._ "It is, but it has an excellent program. There's nothing around here with anything nearly as acclaimed. I'll apply for them too in case, and I guess I could choose one of them if you'd prefer, but…"

"No," Charlie said, as I knew he would. "You should go where you want to go. Pick Alaska or whatever. Don't stay nearby because of me. I'm a big boy; I can take care of myself." He reassuringly patted the place where his gun holster would usually rest.

"If you're sure."

"I am. Hey, how are the colleges near where your mom lives? Renée would love it if you could live near her."

"Um, she's still moving around a lot. Anywhere near the baseball circuit would work for her, really. And I've gotten used to cold weather now, anyway. I might melt if I go back there." It was a flimsy half-truth of a joke, but it set Charlie off anyway. By the time he finished laughing, his attention easily slid back to the TV, the conversation forgotten for the time being.

Silently, not wanting to stick around only for the conversation to reopen, I collected up the plates and returned to the kitchen to wash them, waiting impatiently as the hot water and dishwashing detergent filled the sink with its bubbly warmth. My mind wandered back to thinking about college as my hands cleaned as if on autopilot. _Never having to wash dishes,_ I thought suddenly as I stacked the plates up for them to drip dry, _is another perk of being a vampire._

"Charlie," I said as I went back into the kitchen. "I'm going up to bed. Can you put the plates away when you're done? They should be almost dry by then."

"Sure, kid. Goodnight."

"You too."

I took my book upstairs to read in bed while waiting for Edward. I wasn't ready to tell him my decision yet – I wanted more time to work out the most effective way to present it to him – but I longed for his soothing company. Sometimes I thought of him as my own guardian angel, watching over me as I slept, protecting me from danger and nightmares alike.

If only he didn't think of himself as the complete opposite.

* * *

The next day was one of those rare days when the sun won its battle against the clouds and managed to stay out for long enough to warm up the town. Most of my classmates were acting as if their brains had melted from the heat; no one seemed to be able to concentrate very long, their gazes constantly flickering to the nearest window and the little square glimpse of the outside world it provided. Back in my days at Phoenix High School, my thoughts would have been similarly occupied. Now, however, they were fixated on the one downside of the sunny turn: the Cullens weren't at school, and couldn't be seen around town until it had gone away again. I tried to enjoy the warmth and light, everything that was usually missing in Forks, but it was hard to truly enjoy something that forced those I loved into hiding, however temporary it might be. It didn't help that Jessica and Mike had gotten into an argument and broken up the night before, leaving Jessica in a foul mood all morning. She wasn't enjoying the sun, either, if her continuous stream of whispered snippiness was anything to go by.

" _Finally,_ " she muttered as the bell rang to signal the end of the period, glaring at the back of Mike's head as she stuffed her notebook and pencil case in her bag. "Come on, let's go before the line gets long."

Obligingly, I hurriedly pack my own bag, although with a fair bit more care than she had. "Ignore him," I whispered as we walked passed his blond head, and the effort Jess expended forcing herself not to look back at him seemed almost tangible.

Jess' determination to get as far away from Mike as possible saw us uncharacteristically close to the front of the cafeteria line. We were sitting at our usual table by the time Mike and Eric came into the lunch room, so I suspected that the need for distance had been reciprocated. "So, Edward and his family are camping?" she asked. "Did they say where they were going?"

"They are. And nearby, I think. They weren't expecting the weather to last long, so they didn't want to go too far afield and then get hit by the rain coming back."

Another set of trays slid onto the table as Angela and Lauren sat in the vacant seats beside us. "How are you holding up?" Lauren asked, as blunt as ever.

"Not too well," Jess admitted softly, before abruptly changing the subject with a look of forced bravado. "But we weren't talking about that; we were talking about the Cullens' camping trip. I wish _my_ parents let me miss school whenever the weather was nice. I'm surprised you don't go with them, Bella."

"Charlie wouldn't let me either. Besides, I'm not really an outdoors person. We'd probably have to cut the trip short for a hospital visit." Not to mention the fact that they would want to hunt, and it wouldn't be safe to be near them, especially Jasper, while they were lost to that instinct.

Fortunately, Jess didn't press any further. Unfortunately, the reason for this was that her attention had been diverted by Mike as he and Eric play-wrestled in the line. It was evident that Mike was dominating the fight as he pulled the other boy into a loose headlock. "He's so immature," Jessica complained, spearing her spaghetti onto her fork with no small amount of gusto. "It's like nothing's serious, _ever_. I was trying to talk to him, _really_ talk to him, about what we're both going to do after we graduate, and he just kept making jokes about it all."

"Leaving high school can be scary, especially if you don't know what you want to do," Angela reasoned. "Maybe he's just deflecting."

"What, you going to be a psychologist or something?" Jessica snapped. "Leave that psychoanalysis crap for someone else. All I know is that my boyfriend – _ex_ -boyfriend – apparently doesn't care about us enough to even discuss what's going to happen after school before we end up in different states."

"Actually," Angela said, a little snippy herself now, "I _am_ going to be a psychologist. And you don't have to take it out on me; I was just trying to help."

Jessica visibly deflated, her shoulders and head drooping and eyes closing as a hand flew to her temple, a soldier told she wouldn't have to fight anymore. "Sorry. I know. I'm just really frustrated right now."

"That's alright," Lauren said, being surprisingly nice for once. "Anyone would be."

Ben, who had stayed behind to finish discussing some theory with our history teacher, was making his way over with a tray laden with food, so Angela said quickly, "Why don't we do something tonight? Just the three of us. Movie night at my house. Take our mind off of things – boys, college, everything."

"That would be great," Jess said. "No school talk?"

"No school talk."

"I'm in," Lauren promised.

I wasn't sure what to say. Jess needed company, so we had some kind of unwritten obligation to help her if possible, but I'd been planning on visiting the Cullens to strategize with Alice and let Edward know about my decision. "I can't. I have to do some errands after school."

Lauren rolled her eyes, back to her usual snide self. "Oh, come _on_. If you don't want to, just say it."

"I do want to," I insisted. "They just really have to be done today." A glance at Jess' face, sporting a hurt expression as she kept watching Mike, had me adding, "It should only take about two hours. I could meet you after that."

* * *

As it turned out, I didn't have the chance to discuss strategies with Alice. She, Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper were about to leave for a hunt when I arrived, and the coal black hue of their eyes was a testimony in itself to how badly they needed to go. All she said on the matter was a note that she passed me with, "I see it working!" written on it in her elegant handwriting before she darted out the door after the others, the three of them simultaneously, at least to my eye, becoming blurs of motion heading towards the forest.

"Bella," Esme greeted me, her voice a tinkling welcome as she wrapped me in an icy hug. "It's wonderful to see you. We didn't expect you today. Did anyone notice you coming? And how's Charlie?"

Oh, the rapid-fire frequency of syntactic leaps when they're in a vampire's mind. It never failed to amuse me how they could dart from one topic to another as if they were the most related things in the world. "He's great. Work's been quiet lately, so he's happy. I told my friends I had some errands to run; if they ask I can say you asked me to water your plants. I can't stay long, though, because I'm meeting up with them later." I ran over what Esme had said in my head, mentally checking that I had responded to everything. "Oh! And it's great to see you too." She pulled back from the hug, resulting in a strange sensation where the warmth rushed back in even as the affectionate comfort disappeared.

"You're here to see Edward, of course," she said, and she stepped away to reveal the son in question standing behind her. "Carlisle and I will be in the study if you need us." Before I could blink, she had vanished, her mind obviously too distracted to temper her speed the way she usually did.

"It's really strange to have someone who was just standing in front of you suddenly be gone," I admitted to Edward, heading for the lounge room. It wasn't as if going to his bedroom would really afford any more privacy than here, and Carlisle or Esme overhearing my arguments might even help my case. The temptation to touch him was almost overwhelming, but I knew that that would only distract me from my purpose there, so I sat on one of the single armchairs. His happy facial expression faltered for a split second as he noticed the peculiarity, and he turned watchful eyes on me.

"Is something wrong, Bella?" he asked, his tone almost unnervingly polite.

"Not at all," I replied, "but we do need to talk. About when you're going to change me."

"I thought we agreed to postpone this conversation for a few years."

"No, _you_ agreed to that. _I_ wasn't given the choice."

"I won't change you until you understand the consequences of such an action," he insisted firmly. "It's not reversible."

"And when will you decide I know enough to understand them? Ever?" His stony-faced silence answered my question as surely as any confirmation would have; he would delay as long as he could, but he never intended to change me. "You're not waiting to be satisfied with _my_ understanding, you're waiting to be satisfied with _yours_. Edward, that's insane! You're never going to be a hundred precent certain of what vampirism means for someone's soul. That's as good as saying there's nothing I can do, understanding the ramifications or not, to change your mind."

"I'm not going to inflict that upon you. I refuse to do it."

"And _I_ refuse to believe that something that you have no control over can damn you to hell. Someone did this _to_ you, Edward. How could you be blamed for something you had no control over?"

"But there's the rub, Bella. You _do_ have control over this. If it comes down to intent, like you say, then you have the wrong intent."

"So maybe you should have left me there when James bit me, then," I snapped, before refocusing myself. "Fine. It's your choice whether or not you're involved. But I _am_ going to become a vampire, with or without your approval."

"Who will change you, then? Only Carlisle would have the control to do it, and he wouldn't go behind my back like that. You could go to the Volturi to do it, I suppose, but how then how will you get back? What will you do in the meantime – go on killing sprees? Is that how you really want to live your life, Bella?"

"I want to live it with you." The whining edge to my tone embarrassed me, made me feel even more human in comparison to this immortal, ageless being. "Would you really not come to Italy with me?"

"No, Bella, I wouldn't." I stared at him in shock. A moment later, I had been moved across from my chair to his lap, my head resting against his shoulder, his arms curled around me like a cocoon. If only when he let me go it would be as a butterfly rather than a caterpillar. "I wouldn't go with you, because you wouldn't be going. I would be spending every second of the day convincing you not to. This can't be what you want."

"What if it is?" I whispered, and he sighed, a defeated sound that made my heart ache.

"It hurts me when you talk about throwing your life away like this," he said.

And, because it felt necessary, I said, "I'm sorry."

"What about a compromise?" he asked, his hand playing with my hair now, lifting it and dropping it and wrapping tendrils around his fingers like a spring. "We go to college together. We graduate. Then we see."

"How's that a compromise? It sounds an awful lot like your original plan."

"Very well. Not a compromise, but a postponement. We'll both use that time to consider it. Three years is really not that long. If it ensures that we can go into this with peace of mind, or avoid it with peace of mind, then it's worth it. I can't promise anything; surely changing someone who isn't on the brink of death is as bad as choosing to be changed. But we can discuss it again then."

"The Volturi, _Aro_ …"

"Aro is satisfied for now with the knowledge that Alice has seen you turned. I will explain to him that we need to wait so as not to arouse suspicion. If you were to die and we were to move suddenly, it would be suspicious. If we wait until we have all already gone…"

"I was thinking of teaching with a double major in English and biology be satisfactory," I admitted, my voice muffled against his shirt but still clear enough for his vampire hearing. "I'm going to start my application essays this weekend."

"You're going to go?" His face lit up like a child's on Christmas morning, mesmerising me with its beauty. No wonder vampires rarely struggle to find prey. Even ignoring the superhuman strength and speed, they'd be able to lure them in with a simple smile. Had he been the hunting sort, Edward would never have trouble catching victims who liked men. It made me wonder how I'd managed to hold out against this for so long, to be honest.

"Yes. You and Charlie both want me to go, so I guess I'm going." I wanted him to acknowledge my resistance. I didn't care if that made me an immature, needy high school graduate – he apparently wanted me to live that life, after all. Being a pawn was rarely fun, and, even though I knew they both just wanted what they thought was best for me, I wanted him to know that I definitely didn't appreciate it. I couldn't resist the parting shot, "Besides, I might not want to be a teacher, but I figure that teaching skills are probably _eternally_ useful."

"You'll enjoy it, Bella," he assured me, as if saying it would make it so.

"We'll see," I countered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my brother, as always.

We all met in the park the day after graduation to celebrate our newfound freedom. My friends were disappointed by the fact that it was still overcast, having all been of the opinion that it should be sunny in celebration of the occasion, and having all for some reason therefore expected that that would be the case. I feigned disappointment as well, but I was just glad that it meant Edward and Alice could come along.

Alice had practically doused herself with glitter, saying she was testing its value and practicality as a cover in case of sudden sun surprises. While she didn't expect to use it often in Forks, she figured that it might be a useful strategy in the future. She attracted a fair few glances throughout the day, but everybody bought the story that she'd just felt like trying a new, daring fashion trend, so it didn't bother her. Human opinion didn't mean much to her, and, in any case, it was better to get strange looks now than suspicious ones if the sun hit her at the wrong moment.

I chatted with Alice about mundane things, my gaze fixed on Edward, admiring him as he spoke to Angela about her college plans. Every now and again Eric would call out an objection from the picnic blanket he was sharing with Lauren, insisting that the day should be dedicated to shallower topics, but neither of them paid him any attention.

"We're all so glad Edward found you," Alice murmured, swiftly changing the topic from the book she had been gushing about. "I know you wonder why he stays with you, but you wouldn't if you'd seen him before he met you. He was so empty back then. Time can start to lose meaning when it's limitless, and he had existential crises on an annual basis. His life has meaning now you're in it. You gave that to him, Bella."

Knowing he could hear every word we said despite our lowered voices, I replied, "He gives mine meaning too. He makes me feel alive. That's why I don't understand how he rejects the idea of changing me. I wouldn't want to live without him, and he says he feels the same, but he's doing everything he can to make sure he _will_ have to live without me one day."

Edward's eyes remained firmly on Angela, but his body stiffened at my words, looking as if he'd forgotten to act human. He started breathing and blinking again after a few moments, a brief enough time period that nobody who didn't already know what they were looking at would have noticed. Alice let out a tinkering laugh. "Give him time. He says that now, but if he has a choice between turning you and watching you die, he won't be able to just stand back. It's easy to take the moral high ground when it's in the abstract, but it's a whole lot harder when the temptation is staring you in the face."

"So I just have to find some way to almost die in his presence again."

"You wouldn't have to do much looking." Alice eyed me reproachfully, looking for all intents and purposes like a parent scolding a misbehaving child. "You're not the only one who will be grateful when you're a vampire. I think I'm still realising just how fragile you humans are."

"You can't exactly blame me for my continued humanity."

Mike's cheery voice drowned out Alice's reply. "Sorry we're late. Car trouble. Had to stop at a garage."

"Ooh, Jessica's dress looks lovely. I wonder where she got it from… Excuse me, I'm going to go find out." Alice suddenly jumped up and made her way over to the newly arrived couple.

It hadn't taken long for Jessica and Mike to get back together. According to Jess' recount the day after their reunion, Angela's hypothesis had been right; Mike was stressed because hedidn't know what he wanted to do at all, let alone well enough to plan things with someone else, and he hadn't wanted to admit that to himself, let alone to Jessica. He had hoped to put off the conversation until he could straighten out his own wishes, and so had snapped at Jess when she, wanting to plan together, hadn't let him be quickly enough. A few days after their fight, he drove over to her house unexpectedly to apologise and talk it all out. She had been bitter at what she deemed to be too little too late, but he had persisted, and by that evening they were back together.

"Stupid boy," Jessica had said with an affectionate smile. "He's so focused on being strong and keeping up appearances that he causes more trouble than he has to."

"Don't pretend you don't love it," Lauren had retorted, back to her snippy self now that Jessica didn't need her support anymore.

Jessica had continued smiling that fond smile, before saying, slightly abashed, "We're all pretty stupid sometimes, aren't we?"

"Some more than others," Edward had whispered to me, his voice just loud enough for me to hear. "Trust me, I'm in their heads."

Not trusting myself to speak quietly enough, I had leaned across to whisper in his ear, "Who's more foolish, the fool or the man who, knowing the other is a fool, willingly subjugates himself to that? And stop ragging on my friends. Just because _we're_ limited to human intelligence…"

"Gross, Bella, stop whispering sweet nothings in Edward's ear. This is _definitely_ not the time for that."

I had glared at Emmett as the table's attention shifted to me, but he had just grinned right back, unaffected.

Now, watching Mike's spare hand reach up to pull a bug out of Jess' hair and flick it away, I was struck anew with how much they resembled a modified human version of that contraption that you sometimes see on physicists' desks in movies. They were both little metal balls, swinging out and in and clanging together and pushing one another away, always going away but always coming back, too, because something tethers them together no matter how far apart they swing.

_The only problem,_ I thought as I picked up a leaf and started ripping it apart, _is that that's sure to wear away at the string._

I honestly didn't know whether to hope that the string would never snap, or merely hope that neither of them would be hurt in the fall when it did. Looking at Jess' beaming face as she talked to Alice, I knew; sometimes you throw so much into a relationship that it's impossible not to be crushed when it ends, and Jess had built Mike up so high in her mind that there would be no other possible outcome for her.

Glancing back at Edward, who was watching Alice warily, I was relieved that I would never have to worry about either of those things.

* * *

The early morning air was fresh as I walked down the driveway to the mailbox, the stone driveway damp underfoot from the still-dissipating dew. The front yard was woefully barren, and I promised myself to look into flowers and plants that thrived in areas with little sun and excessive rainfall. Ideally ones that required little or no upkeep, or else they'd die by the time I was back for vacation. Reaching the small metal box, I peeked in through the narrow opening to confirm that something was in fact there before, looking at the nearby mulberry tree and idly contemplating it, squeezing my hand through the narrow opening to search for its contents. It was fairly easy to pull out, and, when I caught sight of the envelope from the college tucked in amongst the bills and junk mail, I couldn't help but wonder if maybe it should have been harder to extract. Legends always had epic adventures begetting epic results, with the trials leading to the reward, but I'd merely apathetically written some essays and easily pulled a stack of envelopes out through an admittedly small opening.

_Perhaps that's why I still find it baffling that Edward wants to be with me,_ I thought. _It's like I've gotten the grand prize, but didn't have to do anything to earn it. I keep expecting someone to realise there weren't enough trials and take him away._

Even though I didn't particularly care about college in its own right, the envelope made me nervous. Being rejected was never nice, even when you're not all that invested in it, and my agreement with Edward was based on the assumption that I would get in. I didn't want our plans to fail due to the fact that I had been too busy bemoaning the fact that I would actually have to wait another few years without the assurance of achieving my goal to be bothered putting the effort in.

_Maybe this is my trial. I didn't have to work to be with Edward, but I do have to undertake a journey to convince him to let me be with him forever._

The walk back up the driveway seems ten times as long as the descent, and I feel myself slowing down as I enter the house in an attempt to delay finding out if I'd gotten in. There was only so long I could put it off, however; after passing the bills to Charlie, I sat down across from him at the dining table and, reminding myself that this was my life-quest, quickly ripped the lid open and expelled its contents onto the table.

Aware of Charlie's silent presence as he watched me, adding pressure even though he probably intended to remain unnoticed, I pulled out the letter and skimmed through it quickly, before then starting again and reading over in more depth.

One word in particular stood out to me amongst the rest, a diamond in the rough: _Congratulations._

I'd gotten in.

Time for my quest to begin.

"I got in," I told Charlie. "They accepted my application; I got in!"

"Congratulations, Bells. I knew you could do it." He walked over to hug me, albeit awkwardly because of my seated position, before pulling back and gesturing to the letter. "Can I read that?" I handed it over, my mind still fuzzy with unexpected excitement, and waited as he read its contents. "I'm proud of you, kiddo."

"Thanks, Dad." Tears welled in his eyes as if they were miniscule sinks with the plug left in, and he hugged me again. This time, I shifted in my chair so that I could reciprocate it.

* * *

His pacing in and out of my peripheral vision was starting to irritate me. His face was set, his eyes determined, almost as if he were preparing himself for battle. That was disconcerting; Charlie might be the opposite of verbose, but he wasn't exactly shy. It was just that he usually preferred to observe rather than talk. He usually had no trouble saying what was on his mind, even if that was a criticism or rebuke. For him to be worked up over something but not willing to say anything about it either meant that he had a serious problem at work or a serious problem to discuss with me. Given that he hadn't said anything about safety precautions when I'd gone down to the shops earlier, I expected it to be the latter.

Finally, he said gruffly, "I don't like the idea of you living off campus with him."

Oh. That. "It makes the most sense. Neither of us want to have people around all the time – and just think of all the peer pressure that would be going on if we lived on campus. It's not like it's practical for us to live by ourselves off campus, either. It would be cheaper and personally I'd feel a lot safer having him close by."

The shot struck home. Charlie hesitated, appearing to weigh up whether he'd rather his only daughter live alone in a new city, with people who might pressure her into partying, or with the boyfriend he still neither trusted nor liked. "What if you break up?" he asked after a few minutes. "You'll have nowhere to go."

I stood up abruptly, tossing my book aside. I wasn't going to just stay seated while he insulted my relationship. "We're not _going_ to. I don't think you get it, but he's it for me. We – "

"Bella – Bella, wait. I'm not saying this because I want you to. I'm saying it because you need to know that it is a risk. If the two of you were to break up mid-semester for any reason, what would you do? You'd both be in a strange city with no one to fall back on."

"Then I'd move out. Besides, Alice and Jasper are coming too," I reminded him. "Even in your misguided hypothetical version of reality, they'd still be there for me."

"Why don't you and Alice move in together?" he asked, his voice wary, and I knew I'd won, or at least would win eventually. We'd discussed this argument before; if he couldn't come up with anything new, he might as well be admitting that he didn't have any good reasons for me not to move in with Edward.

"She's used to living with a big family. She'd get lonely without Edward and Jasper around."

"You're going to move in with him no matter what, aren't you?"

"I love him. He's not going to just go away." Noticing that the look on his face had morphed from disapproving to defeated, I added, "Just keep in mind that Alice will be there too."

"Trust me, that's what'll help me sleep at night. Good girl, that one."

Alice and Emmett would both appreciate that one. "She's the best."

* * *

We decided to drive up for the orientation day. Running that distance wasn't really an option for me – despite vampire speed, we would have needed to stop frequently for sustenance and toilet breaks, and that just increased the chances of being seen – and flying up would have caused normal humans problems getting around once there. Still, none of us particularly wanted to be in that car. Edward and I had had a disagreement regarding Jacob that morning, and Jasper was feeling the brunt of our frustration, leaving all three of us feeling miserable. Meanwhile, Alice was irritated that we weren't having the stereotypical road trip she'd envisioned. The radio was on, the tracks she'd carefully chosen blaring, but nobody felt in the mood to sing along or talk. She'd eventually given up on making small talk and had resorted to staring at the scenery as it flashed by, her lips pursed together to form a small pout.


	3. Chapter 3

I still don't want to go to college. Despite that, even I have to admit that it has an appealing atmosphere, even though I can't quite put my finger on what it is about it that is so attractive. It's not the grounds; the grassed areas are neat and well kept, but the college is surrounded by woodlands, which I've never been particularly fond of. The weather doesn't help, either; while I've grown accustomed to overcast days and cold nights, I still prefer bright places where I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. But there's still _something_ about it that makes me like it almost automatically.

Pulling my attention away from the campus, I caught a smug look on Edward's face. He'd obviously seen my approval and taken it as a partial victory on his part. "It's pretty," I told him, wanting to be clear on where my thoughts lay. "I like it here. That doesn't mean I wouldn't rather be somewhere else doing something else."

"Just give it time," he instructed. "Some things take time to grow on you."

"Yeah. Like weeds or fungi."

"You could go back to Forks and your friends if you wanted."

"But then you wouldn't change me."

"No. I wouldn't. But I don't see why it's such a bad thing, Bella." His tone is cajoling, subtle in its plea. There is no doubt in my mind that he wants me to experience all the things he thinks I should, but I know he would throw that all away in a second if it meant I would let this issue drop indefinitely.

"I'm staying here. It'll grow on me. Like you said."

"Don't think of it as a weed. Think of it as a flower; they take time to grow and blossom."

We fell silent except for occasional comments on the areas that we were passing. Unfortunately, most of our classes were situated on opposite sides of campus. While Edward could have and probably had previously studied any degree, the Cullens had been setting up the groundwork for him having a special interest in architecture for years. A few comments to teachers here, a few books checked out from the library there. The idea, Jasper had told me, had been to make it seem perfectly natural for the three of them to move away for college, and then for those left in Forks to relocate a few years later under the excuse of having missed them. It would have been easy enough for Edward to feign a last-minute change of mind that favoured science over architecture, but none of the Cullens had studied that in the past few decades and the task of brushing up on the developments in that time had fallen to Edward.

The tree boundary rose up before us, dotting the sky with green leaves. To me, it felt a little like a prison wall keeping us inside its perimeters. To Edward, however, I knew it could mean food. "How far away from humans do you have to be when you hunt?" I asked him. Then, in case anybody was close enough to hear, I added, "Like, in terms of gun regulations. I assume you can't shoot anywhere too close to a built up area."

"That's right. We wouldn't be able to hunt here, if that's what you're asking. Stray bullets could go anywhere, and it would be too complicated in a place like this to make sure no one wanders in for a walk at the wrong time. I wouldn't imagine there wouldn't be much game here, anyway."

Edward ventured into the trees, our clasped hands directing my path as well. "At least that's reassuring. It'll be nice not to have to worry about forest animals for once."

He flashed a fond smile at me, and my chest warmed in response. The beauty mechanism the vampires were all given really was effective. It wasn't hard to imagine people walking willingly to their deaths at the sight of that smile. There was a high chance that I would have been one of the doomed. Or even that I already was among their number; for what had Edward done, if not shown me a brilliant kaleidoscope of possibilities that made my life pale in comparison? Was not depression or grey bleakness a kind of living death? "If there's a single bear in there at any point over the next few years, I've no doubt you could find it."

"Well, you know whom to call if you ever need help hunting something."

He chuckled, sending a string of lustful thoughts careening through my head. My cheeks flushed in response, and I diverted my gaze from his in the hopes that he wouldn't notice. It was folly to think that he mightn't, of course. Edward was a particularly observant person, especially when it came to me, and even more especially when it came to me and blood. An index finger reached out and softly stroked my cheek in a light caress. When I looked back up at him, the unspoken question was evident in his face.

"I was just thinking. About you."

His gaze turned from curious to heated with the force of the tide, and he stepped forward to kiss me, pulling me under effortlessly as his sand-arms blanketed me. I lost myself in the moment, that absolutely perfect moment, until breathing became a problem and I fought to resurface for air. "Air," I gasped out by way of explanation as I pulled away, resting my hands against his chest to prop myself up as though it were a rock in the ocean. "I need it. More of it."

He wasn't even short of breath. Another way in which vampires were infinitely superior to humans. If it weren't for my shortcomings, we would have been able to just kiss forever, getting lost in one another and never bothering to find ourselves again. Normal human life experiences seemed so precious to him because his family had never had the opportunity to fully explore and enjoy them. Their lives as humans were cut short, and their lives as vampires were so fundamentally different. In my mind, however, no trivial human experience could live up to the promise of an eternity with Edward. My fingers traced the perimeter of a button on his shirt, wishing he would just trust my ability to make this decision for myself.

_Still,_ I supposed, _he's smarter than I am. Maybe there is some reason that I can't see, that he's keeping hidden so as not to frighten me._ The temptation to ask him is strong, but that would only reignite a conversation that would ruin our day. Instead, I let my hand drop down from his chest to snag his cold fingers like fish on a hook and raise his hand until I could see the face of his ornate silver watch. "Lunchtime's almost over," I said, disappointed. The sooner the day was over, the sooner we could return to our new home where no one had to hide anything, but all I wanted was to stay there with him indefinitely. "We should start heading back."

He glanced down at the watch to confirm before nodding. "You make me lose track of time, Bella."

"Speak for yourself. I'm hardly aware there _is_ such a thing as time when I'm around you." Our hands dropped to our sides, hanging between us like the physical embodiment of our love as we walked. "I wish we had more shared courses."

"I could shuffle my schedule around and do my electives this semester," he offered, but we had discussed that already. He technically _could_ take some science courses that semester, but it would mess up his degree progression and mean he'd have to stay back an extra year.

I grinned. "No. After all, isn't wanting college to be over the kind of normal human experience you want me to have?"

* * *

"Teaching has the potential to be one of the most rewarding things you'll ever do," one of the lecturers – she'd said her name earlier but I'd long since forgotten it – said, "but it can, and likely will, also be the most frustrating. You will be in a position in which you can have an extraordinary amount of influence on a young person's life and future, and it will be up to you to work out how to use that influence to their benefit. At the same time, you'll be faced with students who don't necessarily respect you or _want_ to learn. That can, as I'm sure you can imagine, be trying. However, you all know why you're here! So our focus for this afternoon will be to do some activities to get to know one another and to answer any more questions you may have about the morning session. Now, we usually do a sort of round robin blind dating introduction session first so that you have the chance to meet as many of your classmates as possible. However, a new study was released that we're very curious about, and we'd like to test it with you to satisfy our curiosity about whether it works and to broaden your understanding about the kinds of things that can be used as ice breakers or to develop relationships in a short period of time. Now, it does require a level of self-disclosure that you might not be comfortable with. We ask that you give it a sincere effort, but don't feel like you have to say anything you don't feel comfortable sharing. With that said, if you could pair up with someone you hadn't met before today…"

I looked around me. Being from Forks, I hadn't met _anyone_ here before today, and I hadn't been focused on meeting people that morning, either. When left to my own devices, I wasn't a very social person. A day spent alone – or, now, with the Cullens – was infinitely preferable to me than a day spent with others. My mother had never quite understood it, but it was just like how I preferred a day in the sun to a day in the wet. However annoying the constant attention in Forks had been, at the very least it had had the benefit of forcing me to talk to people and make friends. Here, so many people were new to one another that the greetings were more dispersed throughout the cohort.

Essentially, while other people were turning to those they'd been making friends with, I didn't have anybody to turn to.

A girl about my age sat by herself a few seats beside me, writing something. As I watched, she finished writing and started idly redoing her red hair, pulling it out of its bun and then fixing it again. While people around her found one another like magnets with opposite charges, she appeared unbothered. I honestly wasn't sure whether she'd even noticed the movement around her. I wondered whether she was waiting for somebody to come to her or just intended not to do the activity.

_Well,_ I thought, _I can be the one to go to her, and I'm not really fussed on some stupid intimacy activity either, so I don't care if we don't do it properly._

Deciding to make my move before somebody else could so that I wouldn't have to find a new partner, I started gathering up my gear and said, "Do you want to do this thing together?"

She looked up, her hands still twisting the gathered hair against her scalp. "Are you talking to me?"

"Um, yes?"

"Alright. Do you want me to come to you, or…?"

"I can move." Balancing my things was a little awkward, but I managed to relocate to the seat next to her without much of a hassle. "My name's Bella."

"Leslie," she replied. "Are you from around here?"

"Not really. I came from Phoenix originally, but moved to a small town near Seattle a few years ago. My boyfriend, his sister, her boyfriend and I all came up here together for college."

Leslie started to reply, but was cut off by the lecturer whose name I had forgotten. "Is anyone _not_ paired up? Please raise your hands if you don't yet have a partner." A few people did, and she directed them to one another until everybody was part of a pair. Once that was done, one of the male lecturers started handing out small stacks of paper to the people at the end of each row. "Alright, we've got some sheets for each pair to take. There's enough for one each so you can take it home afterwards. Once everyone has one, we're going to spread out for the next hour. You can stay in the room if you'd like, but you're also welcome to go outside. Regardless of your decision, please try to ensure that you have left some space between you and the nearby pairs."

"Let's go outside," Leslie suggested. "It'll be less crowded."

"Sure." The stack of paper had reached us, so I slid a stapled sheaf off for each of us before passing it along. As I shoved my stuff into my bag, I read the first few questions out of the corner of my eye. They didn't look _too_ bad, I supposed. They could definitely have been worse. Still, I didn't feel completely comfortable sharing the information with a stranger, and I had a funny feeling that the rest of the questions would only get more intrusive and revealing as they progressed.

* * *

"You know, we could just pretend we did the activity," I said, trying to make it sound glib rather than pleading. Skirting homework assignments had never really been my thing but, after reading through the remaining questions, I _really_ didn't want to answer them to a stranger. A few other pairs near us had decided to bond over lunch and gossip instead of the questions, and the knowledge that they had escaped the task tempted to follow their footsteps. "If they ask something we've learned about the other person, either make it up or pretend everything we talked about was too sensitive to share."

Leslie was leaning back against a tree with her legs stretched out; the picture of relaxation. Going from her countenance, I didn't think that homework and study really interested her. She seemed like the kind of person you'd hate to be in a group project with but would love to bludge off with. "Let's give it a go. It looks kind of interesting, and it'd be fascinating to see how well it works. Besides, I won't tell anyone what's said if you don't."

"Alright then. I'll ask you first." It might seem a little mean, but, if we were doing this for her, I wanted her to be the first to answer any awkward questions. Admittedly, the experiment was the kind of thing I'd have been interested in reading about, given the connotations it might have for the possibility of love at first sight and other things commonly deemed clichés. Studies have found that female researchers conducting surveys are more likely to be called by men for 'follow up questions' if they were in a dangerous environment when they met due to the research subjects, on some level, falsely attributing their heightened emotions to romantic or sexual interest. This one could, if correct, make more sense of the way people relate to one another. I knew all of that, and I could see why the lecturers were excited about it. That did not, however, mean that I was excited about participating. This wasn't just telling some stranger I might never see again deeply personal things; this would be telling those things to a girl who would probably be around the same places on campus with me for the next few years. If she wanted to do this, she could go first.

"Go for it."

"'Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?'"

She hesitated, and I hoped she'd stumble over her answer long enough that she'd just decide to back out altogether. "You see, I've thought about this a lot, so much so that I have too many people to choose between. Probably Hank Green. He's hilarious and insightful and it would be so amazing to meet him."

"If it has to be someone I haven't met before, Charlotte Brontë. If not, then – and I know this sounds lame – my boyfriend. Next question: 'Would you like to be famous? In what way?'"

"I think everybody would like to be, at least a little bit. They mightn't want the pressure that comes with it, but they want the knowledge that they're successful enough for people to take notice of them. So I would. I'd like to famous for, I don't know, revolutionising the school system or helping people who are disadvantaged or something."

"I honestly wouldn't want to be. I'd rather live in obscurity with my family."

The next few questions passed similarly. Leslie made comments that just cemented my perception of her as an idealistic, artsy, indie dreamer, while I awkwardly brought a taste of boring realism. It didn't feel like it was working at all; we were sharing things and understanding more about one another, but it didn't make me like her any more than I had beforehand. I had always been disdainful of idealists' narrow, tunnel-visioned view of the world, and Leslie's answers were often obnoxiously idealistic.

"I'm most grateful for Edward," I said immediately in response to another of the questions. At least this one was simple and easy. "He's the most perfect person I've ever met. I still don't really know why he stays with me, but he does."

"I would want to know if I'm a good person or how to become one," she said in response to another, picking up a stray leaf idly and starting to slowly rip up the green part. "And I'd want to know if God exists. And, if I were able to use the information to change the future, I would also want to know how to end up happy and how the world ends – or if it does."

"My greatest accomplishment," I repeated, blanking, in response to yet another. Nothing I'd done was particularly extraordinary. I had done well at school. I had fallen in love. I had moved around a bit. I hadn't really done much else other than, perhaps, helping defeat Victoria the year prior, but I couldn't exactly tell Leslie about that last part. "I don't know. I haven't really done anything."

"Yes, you have," she replied. "You mentioned that you've moved away from home. That had to have been daunting. That's something. And you've gotten into the program you want at college – a lot of people don't. Don't undersell yourself."

"Um, thanks," I said, before asking her the next question as the discarded the remaining stem and moved on to another.

I found out that she valued social awareness in friendships, treasured the memory of hanging out with her brother, regretted the memory of a time in primary school when she bullied one of her classmates without realising that that was what she was doing. She found out that my worst memory was when Edward dumped me because he thought it would be better for me, that I would drop out of college and just spend time with my boyfriend and his family if I knew I only had a year left to live, that if I were to die I would most regret not having told Jacob exactly how much he had done for me, but that I hadn't because that would make things more complicated than they already were.

"I would find Edward's death the most disturbing," I admitted. "He's just… It's like he's just meant to be around forever. He's a permanent fixture to everything; things just wouldn't make sense without him. I would rather die than have him die."

"Last question," Leslie said, reading the question herself. We'd taken to not actually asking the question aloud each time, instead looking at it as a prompt and then starting to answer it how it seemed comfortable. The final question asked us to give advice to one another on a problem that we were facing. "You first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The articles about the intimacy study came out while I was writing this, and I found the idea of it fascinating. While it creates a sense of intimacy and vulnerability, however, I don't think it would necessarily make you like it or like that person if you had a negative attitude towards it to begin with. I figured that Bella would be resistant to the idea and so reach a point where she's sharing more with Leslie than she would usually but doesn't realise it's working because she doesn't automatically like the other girl. If you're interested in the actual questions, you can just search some variation of '36 questions intimacy study' and a bunch of results will come up.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my brother for betaing this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that led to the story being rated M. Trigger warning: descriptions of emotionally abusive behaviour. The potential problem spots are between the line, "I've got this friend." and the line break. There's a summary of the whole chapter at the end for anyone who needs to skip that section.
> 
> Thanks again to my brother for betaing this.

"I'm going to have to be a little vague about this because it involves other people's secrets," I cautioned her. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I had grown to be interested in Leslie's opinion. It was often starkly different to mine, and so I knew I was likely to discard it, but she often had good reasoning that I might be able to appropriate and put my own spin on. Besides, with Victoria gone, there was only one issue that was really pressing on my mind at that moment. When Leslie nodded her understanding, I continued. "Alright, Edward and his family have this family tradition of sorts. Throughout the generations, they've always upheld this particular tradition as a way of bonding. It's not entirely _legal_ , but at the same time it doesn't affect anyone but themselves. They're really traditional, so they've made this kind of pact saying that the children won't tell their significant others until they're practically married. Edward fudged the rules by telling me a little earlier than he should have. However, he doesn't want me participating in it. He says it's not that he doesn't want me around for it, but rather that he doesn't want me to have to face the consequences if the kids are ever caught. I've assured him that I don't care about the consequences, I just want to be a part of his family, but he won't budge. He says it's for my own good. And I'm not sure what to do about it. We've got a deal at the moment that he'll consider letting me join them in a few years' time, but even then he's not making any guarantees. I don't want to push him, but…"

"But you're feeling frustrated and left out. You see him as the most important part of your family, but he's not fully including you in his."

The first part was accurate – surprisingly so, given that Edward still didn't seem to get that – but the latter wasn't. Edward saw me as family, and he treated me as such. He wouldn't have invited me to live with him and two other vampires if he hadn't. "He does include me," I objected. "He lets me sit in on the discussions, just not join in on the actual thing."

"Wouldn't that be worse, being able to see what you want when he won't let you have it?"

"I think I'd prefer knowing everything, but it is hard sometimes. What do you think I should do?"

Leslie looked out over the mown lawn, watching as a group of people walked passed, their eyes constantly flickering between their maps and the scenery. I watched her, curious about how she would answer me. "I'm not going to ask what it is or how serious a crime it is. But do you really want to be involved in this?"

"Yes."

"It's difficult because it _is_ a family tradition. He has the right to not want you involved. However, it's pretty shitty if the reason for it is because he doesn't trust you to make the decision that's best for you. I would personally determine that this is really what I wanted and then tell him that it's one thing if he doesn't want me there for his own reasons and another entirely if he doesn't want me there because he thinks I shouldn't want to be. If he continued saying it was for my own good, I would probably leave him. If he said he just didn't want me there, I'd have to go home to think about whether I could accept that this was something he wanted just for them or whether I needed to leave the relationship."

"I couldn't leave Edward over this," I protested. "I love him too much. That would be like punishing myself for his fault."

"Bella," Leslie said, and the carefulness of her tone disconcerted me. Whilst we had started off careful, that was long gone by now. The fact that she saw this as something needing care was troublesome. She picked up a stray leaf, fallen from the tree and left to wither, and started slowly shredding it apart. "Sorry for the change of topic, but do you see your friends much?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your friends. Do you, you know, hang out with them much? Or did the move affect it?"

"We saw each other fairly regularly before the move. I had a falling out with Jacob over some of the decisions I've made lately, but I've been emailing my school friends. We didn't see each other much outside of school because I was always with Edward. Why?"

"Why did you having a falling out with Jacob?"

"Over Edward. Jacob… When Edward and I broke up, Jacob was there for me. We became best friends, but he wanted more. Edward came back and we got back together, but Jacob hasn't really accepted that yet. That, and the fact that neither of them like one another, put some strain on our friendship. Edward doesn't like me going to his house because he thinks it's dangerous, while Jacob thinks that Edward's going to hurt me."

"Is there any truth in either of their fears?"

"Some, um, petty criminals live near Jacob, but they tend not to do anything normally. And I think Jacob's mostly worried because he knows that I would do anything for Edward and is afraid of what that might mean."

The leaf was down to the twig, the rest of it discarded in little strips around her. She finished picking little bits of green off it before tossing the twig aside and picking up another leaf. "Has Edward ever hurt you?"

"No!"

"Not even accidentally?"

"He's always stopped himself in time."

"I'm going to have to think about your problem," Leslie said. "Is it alright if we talk about mine while we do?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Thanks. I've got this friend. Her name's not Marie, but I'm going to call her that anyway for the purpose of convenience. She's recently gotten out of a really creepy relationship. It started out with little things but built up to the point where Marie didn't feel comfortable seeing her friends because she knew he wouldn't approve. He never explicitly said he wouldn't, it was just the tone of his voice or how he acted afterwards that gave it away. For example, we went out to dinner once, and she told me a few days later that she wouldn't be able to hang out for a while. I asked why – she'd already told me she wasn't busy in the upcoming weeks – and she'd admitted that he'd been unhappy when she got home and had eventually said that he felt that having dinner with me instead of him was she choosing me over him and so devaluing their relationship. She wasn't allowed to ever spend time with other guys – not that he didn't trust her, according to him, but rather that he didn't trust the guys. And, after that evening, she had to get approval whenever she wanted to see me."

"That's horrible," I said, disgusted and horrified. "Why did she stay with him?"

"Because he'd taken control of her autonomy for so long that she didn't know how to make a choice for herself anymore. Because she loved him. And because she didn't realise it was abusive. He never hit her. He came close enough to spook her a few times, close enough that she was always careful not to enrage him, but he was always apologetic and she didn't think he'd ever really done anything anyway. I told her it was unhealthy, but she never listened."

"But she broke up with him."

"She did, much to my relief. It just hit her one day, from how she described it. She was thinking about him and how he never seemed convinced that she truly loved him, and she realised what was happening. She got out. Now, though, she's considering going back to him because she's been with him so long – since we were all fifteen – that she doesn't know what to do without him anymore. I don't know how to stop her, or if it's my place to stop her."

"Of course it's your place," I said. "She's your friend, and she's putting herself in danger."

"But how?"

"Can you remind her of what he did? Would that help?"

"Perhaps, but it really is a matter of perception sometimes. You see, Bella, I see you as being in the same situation as her. I'm worried about you. Most of your answers came back to Edward in some way. It's like your life revolves around him. You seem to think he's this perfect being that is for some reason gracing you with his presence. That's not a healthy mindset for a relationship. Relationships should be equal. But, like you said, you'd do anything for him, yet he doesn't seem to respect your wishes. I'm not saying he's doing it on purpose. I don't know him, so it's impossible to say. But it being accidental doesn't mean it isn't happening, or that it isn't a problem."

"You don't know him. Or me, really. You just know what's been said today…"

"In my experience, our friends are better at telling when something's wrong for us than we are. If Jacob really cares about you, maybe he has a point. Could you talk to him about it? See whether his concerns are because he wants to be with you or because he has reason for it?"

"I could, but I don't have to. I can't tell you everything, but it's not as straightforward as you think. Edward has reasons for behaving the way he does. It sounds bad when you stack it together like that, but anything could if you just listed the bad stuff. There's so much more to it, and us, than that."

"Yeah," Leslie said, her voice sad as she tossed aside the most recent shredded leaf and picked up a new one, almost like a backwards conveyer belt that pulled things apart instead of putting them together. "That's what my friend says, too."

* * *

The conversation bugged me for the rest of the day. There was no truth in it, of course, but her accusations filled me with self-righteous anger that kept eating away at my concentration like a persistent rat that had snuck into your pantry when you weren't looking. Her continued proximity throughout the rest of class didn't help. I kept wanting to turn to her and make her understand just how off base her theorising was. The problem with people like her was that they were always so desperate to help people and fix things that they made problems up just so they had something to solve. In her naïve eyes, a disagreement was probably cause for concern on the healthiness of your relationship.

By the time the orientation day was over, I'd convinced myself that she was well and truly crazy and that I should do my best to avoid her throughout the next few years. Let somebody else deal with her over-the-top psychoanalyses. I was over people judging my relationship when they didn't know a thing about it, and I was over them expecting me to go along with what they thought like an obedient child. They thought a few words, of disapproval or disgust or concern, would sway me. Well, this child's reached her adolescence. The surmounting disapproval just made me want to reaffirm my feelings for Edward in a form of peaceful protest.

I therefore decided to ignore what Leslie had said. Fortunately for me, that wasn't hard to do when Edward was with me. He met me outside of my classroom, and we walked over to the courtyard to meet Jasper and Alice, his gloved hand wrapped around my naked one as he told me about his day. The prospect of all three vampires wearing gloves had initially amused me, but in the end it had made sense. It was another method of ensuring that their human classmates didn't notice that anything was wrong – if for some reason their hands brushed, they would feel the chilly fabric rather than the icy hand – and it suited the fact that Edward and Alice had decided to play on the rich stereotype a little so as to explain how the four of us managed to afford living here by ourselves without jobs.

My lack of employment was something I hoped to rectify soon. I technically didn't need to work at the moment, given Alice's insistence that they cover all shared bills and the fact that Edward had, despite my protests, given me a credit card attached to his account with the instruction not to hesitate to use it. Not a cent had yet been withdrawn from it, at least as far as I was concerned. I had saved up enough before leaving to cover myself for a while, by which time I hoped to have found a job. Furthermore, while Edward had won our argument through sheer force of will and persistence, I didn't plan on using it unless I absolutely had to. Still, it did make me feel more secure, knowing that it was there as a safety net.

Hearing Edward talk about architecture, I wondered whether he'd ever dreamed of being an architect. I knew that the vampires, other than Carlisle, studied different degrees each time they went to college. However, I also knew that they each had their preferences. Alice, for example, tended to gravitate towards art and design, while Jasper preferred history and defence courses. It was rare for people to have only ever wanted to do a single career, but their options were ultimately limited by time and the focus on making a name for themself in their chosen profession. Edward had the opportunity to study every single career he'd ever had any interest in, if he wanted to. He could be a policeman and an astronaut and a scientist and a firefighter, although the last profession probably wasn't a good idea for a vampire. It was amazing to speculate how long his résumé would be if he put down every single job he'd ever had.

_On the other hand,_ I thought, _he keeps repeating high school. How many years does he really get in each field before they decide to start the cycle again?_

It was a sobering thought. If I were right, then Edward and the others had the opportunity to taste virtually every profession in the world but truly savour none of them. It sounded like the inspiration for a round of Would You Rather: would you rather be able to experience every career you like but not get the chance to really explore any of them, or have the opportunity to go as far as you liked in any one field? Of course, this wasn't a game; this was their life. The idea of eternal exploration had seemed so appealing to me, but what was it worth if, every time you set out on an expedition, you were forced to stop before you discovered the oasis? It seemed more like an ongoing torment, a game of Snakes and Ladders that you could never win.

Other than the way that newborns were so focused on bloodlust you would think they were wearing blinkers, it was the first real downside that I'd found to being a vampire. Everything Edward had thrown at me had only ever amounted to speculation and fearful overcautiousness. _This_ , this thing that he hadn't seen as big enough to dissuade me, however; well, this counterargument had merit. Perhaps I could wait until I were older after all. I didn't want to be physically older than Edward, but there were benefits to ageing naturally.

Of course, those benefits were fleeting, while the benefits or costs of my age in relation to Edward's wasn't.

His soothing voice is like a soft melody straining to be heard above the breeze, and I let my thoughts drift away as I focused on it. Everything about him – his voice, his looks, his actions – really was mesmerising. My mind was still so frazzled from that afternoon that it couldn't identify individual words and sounds, but it took comfort in the sound of his voice and knowledge of his presence.

Another voice joined in, playing the harmony, and it took me a few seconds to realise it had been saying my name. Spinning around, I saw Alice and Jasper approaching from the direction we'd come from. Edward's voice fell silent as he stopped walking, although he didn't bother turning to face his siblings. "Hi Alice, Jasper. How was your day?"

"It was _wonderful_ ," Alice gushed. "The people in my course were lovely. And you should have seen their clothes! I asked this girl, Abby, where she shops, and she told me a few places to check out."

Jasper smiled at Alice fondly before saying, "My day was boring. The lecturers seem more than competent, at least."

I supposed that information about the degree lost its lustre when you'd heard similar reiterations of it several times before. "Mine was alright, too. But, yeah, a bit boring."

"Did you make any friends?" Edward asked. He had inquired about my day earlier but, noting my sour mood, hadn't pushed. Or, rather, he had pushed, but had been unsuccessful.

"Not really. I met a girl, Leslie, in the activities. She's alright, I guess. A bit weird though. She kept spouting off nonsense and judging people."

"Well," Alice said brightly, scanning the courtyard for a place to sit, "there are always people like that in every course. You'll find someone you like eventually. For now, at least you know who to avoid."

"Lik – oh, look, there's a space." Still holding Edward's hand, I started walking off towards it. "Hey, Alice, do you want some company on that shopping trip?"

"Will you pretend to be a doll?" she asked, before starting on a discussion of where the stores were and which order she planned to tackle them in.

_Like the plague,_ I finished in my head. I had almost said it, but then I had realised it wasn't a good idea to make comments like that around people who literally experienced the plague. Shopping with Alice was never a particularly pleasant experience – or, at least, it wasn't if you weren't as in love with shopping as she was – but I daresay it's a far cry better than that verbal misstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before the potentially triggering stuff:  
>  In this chapter, Bella seeks Leslie's advice about how to approach her boyfriend about some mildly illegal family tradition he has going that she wants in on. Leslie advises her to check whether his reticence is out of concern for her, in which case she thinks Bella needs to talk to him about making her own decisions or mistakes, or because he wants to keep that as a solely familial thing, in which case she thinks Edward has every right to say no and that Bella needs to work out whether or not she can accept that. During their chat, Leslie starts to get concerned about Bella's situation, questioning her about her friends and, specifically, the situation with Edward and Jacob, and about whether Edward has ever hurt Bella. She then requests that they discuss her issue, purportedly so that she has time to think about Bella's issue.
> 
> The bits containing the potentially triggering stuff:  
>  However, Leslie tells the tale of her friend 'Marie' and how she was in an abusive relationship, left it, and is now considering returning to it. After getting Bella worked up over the situation, she turns the tables on her, saying that she sees Bella as being in a similarly unhealthy situation. Bella responds negatively to the idea.
> 
> After it:  
>  Bella then spends time with Edward while reflecting on their cover, the idea of finding a job so she can continue to support herself, and the way that the vampires get to have a taste of so many professions without ever spending their lives on one of them. It's the second time she comes across a downside to being turned, but the benefits soon overwhelm it. Alice and Jasper arrive and Alice and Bella plan to go shopping together sometime.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to my lovely brother for beta reading this.

The semester seemed to pass by quickly. Classes started off pretty basic, both easy and boring, but quickly grew more interesting. It was better than school had been. Students were generally only those who had a true interest in the subjects, so the classes were much more pleasant and focused. However, the increased pressure for people to take responsibility for their own study habits was an unexpected shock. I had assumed that such a transition would be easy for me, given how dedicated I was with schoolwork over the years, but the fact that I had, for the first time, almost unlimited unsupervised access to Edward disturbed my study habits. Temptation beckoned like a siren. It was almost impossible to concentrate on homework when Edward was around. Fortunately, he was cognizant of this fact, and of the fact that the work was much easier for him than for me, and he often forced me to set time aside to do my coursework before allowing me to spend time with him. It was frustrating at the time but ultimately made the end of semester rush much easier.

The people in my course were generally fairly nice, but I didn't form any real friendships. It seemed like a waste of time to spend my free time with them when I could use it to be with Edward. He disapproved of that way of thinking, of course, but I could tell that he secretly appreciated it. Edward said I ought to spend more time with my peers, and he meant it in the abstract; when it came down to it, however, he liked that I preferred spending time with him.

And, in my opinion, if he liked it and I liked it, there was no reason to stop it.

Charlie and I had taken to calling one another sporadically. Neither of us were particularly good at keeping in touch, but he missed me and I, surprisingly, missed his company too. Phone calls weren't the same, however; after all, when we were together we tended to do separate things in one another's company more than we actively chatted, and phone calls didn't give the opportunity to just sit together while watching TV.

In stark and heartbreaking contrast, Jacob maintained almost complete radio silence. The knowledge that I planned to live another few years, which he had interpreted as me having second thoughts, had pleased him at first. Then, he'd realised that I was as determined as ever and that things could change at any time without him knowing. I had promised him not to take any actions without telling him first so as to ease his mind, but he had still been surly when I'd left Forks. Time had not, in this case, healed all wounds. Asides from occasionally answering or returning my phone calls, he abstained from contact. It was almost as if he were attempting to show me the future consequences of the decision through his continued absence. Contrary to any such hopes, however, it didn't dissuade me of my wishes; it merely reinforced that, however much it hurt to be estranged from him, he wasn't the one I couldn't – and wouldn't – live without. It helped me to uproot any seedlings of romantic feelings I might have had for him. Alas, it didn't stop me wondering how he was in the time between answered phone calls.

The rest of the Cullens visited often, bringing news of Forks each time. They often ran up for the weekend, with Carlisle and Esme heading back down together in time for him to return to work while Rosalie and Emmett left a few days later. Due to the treaty and their shared natural aversions, their updates never gave much detail on Jacob or the rest of the pack. All they could say was what they heard through Seth, who frequently reported on the things I didn't care much about rather than those that I did. If the boy weren't so guileless, I would've thought it a conspiracy to further cement the separation from Jacob.

The separation from the pack was probably the hardest thing about moving away, because discussing their wellbeing was a minefield no matter whom I asked. Charlie wouldn't understand why I had such a great interest in Jacob's friends and their continued existence. That man, however oblivious to the ways of teenage daughters, was a good policeman, and would hardly fail to find constant questions about whether a random teenager was still alive suspicious. The Cullens couldn't tell me much, and if I pushed for tiny details that they mightn't have thought to notice when Edward was around it only ended up putting him on edge and irritating Rosalie, who loathed the implication that their enhanced senses might have missed something that my human ones would have noticed.

The end of semester therefore came like a belated Christmas present, giving me a much-needed break from work and a return to family in a neat little two-for-one bundle. Alice and Jasper started heading south the day after Alice's final assessment was submitted, with Edward and I flying out the next afternoon. The transport arrangements had taken a while to determine. There was no need to transport the car back down, and driving would just slow our progress; so, while cramped planes of potential meals weren't vampires' style, we determined that driving was more of a hassle than it was worth. The only issue had really been with Jasper's control. It was slowly getting better as he grew more accustomed to my presence and learned to extend that to human strangers as well, but a plane was too confined a space for him to feel comfortable. The final plan involved Alice and Jasper getting there just before we touched down and then blending in with us as if they'd just disembarked as well.

The level of production was unnecessary, seeing as how Carlisle was the one picking us up, but Jasper had insisted that it was better to be overcautious than the alternative. Disagreeing with Jasper about tactics or war knowledge was never a productive idea, or so I'd learned when I queried formation tactics in a movie and been given an in-depth explanation on why neither me nor the protagonists were correct.

"Is that it?" I asked, squinting at the suitcase as it slowly circled around on the conveyer belt. In the interests of simplifying things, we had decided to pack only one suitcase between the two of us, leaving space clear for Edward's suitcase to be dedicated to Alice and Jasper's things. None of the vampires needed to bring much back down with us, having left plenty in the Forks home to see them through our stay, but decided to do so anyway for the purpose of appearance and ease. My suitcase, which was filled with my gear and a few things of Edward's, was sitting between us as we waited to spot Alice's pale green suitcase.

"I will check. Don't stray." Edward weaved his way through the crowd to get better access to the patch of moving rubber as the suitcase in question grew closer. When it reached us, he pulled it out, carrying it back over to me in what appeared to be a smooth, continuous motion to my human eyes.

"I wonder where Alice and Jasper are. They should have been here already."

"Probably waiting for you to say that for the sake of dramatic timing," he replied, nodding off to his right. My gaze followed his and was met with the sight of the vampires in question approaching us. Alice looked a little tired, the way she got sometimes after a particularly trying vision, while Jasper kept looking down at her in concern. Glancing back at Edward, however, I saw that he wasn't fazed. His face might appear to be made of stone, but he wasn't that good of a liar; whatever he'd seen in Alice's mind hadn't bothered him.

"Are you alright?" I asked once they were within easy speaking range.

"I am. I'll tell you about it in the car so Carlisle can hear."

I wanted to protest; the way she inflected the first 'I' was disturbing, as if Alice were alright but somebody else was far from it. But the way she said she'd tell us in the car made it sound as if it weren't just a pragmatic choice, but instead was also a vision-related one.

Carlisle was already waiting outside. Between the four vampires and myself, the car was packed and the people seatbelted in within a minute. We were soon zooming along the highway back to Forks. Being a passenger in Carlisle's car was a strange sensation. I'd grown used to the fact that the Cullens systematically sped, but it seemed somehow antithetical for Carlisle, the always compassionate doctor who dedicated his life to overcoming his impulses for others' benefit, to do so.

"What did you see?" I asked Alice, who was sitting next to me with her head resting against Jasper's shoulder and her hand in his. It wasn't the first time I had tried to broach the subject since we had started driving, but each time I mentioned it seemed to set off another bout of visions. Edward, sitting in the front seat and quietly chatting with Carlisle, wasn't much help either. Every now and again he visibly flinched at the onslaught of thoughts from Alice, and when Carlisle had asked him what Alice was seeing – at human volume, for my benefit – he had just shaken his head. "What is so bad that – "

Jasper tried to shush me, watching Alice in concern as she flinched again. Another wave of calm swept through the car in response, its strength so great that I felt instantly drowsy. The empath had been trying to soothe Alice for a while, his projected emotions increasing in strength over time. Unfortunately, it, while calming Alice, couldn't stop the onslaught of visions; as long as they continued, everything else seemed like trying to staunch a serious wound with a poorly placed Band-Aid.

Finally, she said, "You need to refrain from making any decisions right now. The initial vision wasn't bad by itself. It's just that there are some decisions to be made that could go either way, and it's giving me whiplash and a massive headache."

"What was the vision?" Carlisle asked, his golden eyes flickering to the rear-view mirror so he could see her.

Alice's hesitation wasn't obvious; it was tiny and slight, ending almost as soon as it started. If I hadn't been so used to the gracefulness and speed of the vampires, I probably wouldn't have noticed it, or I would have dismissed it. Knowing how quick their minds work, however, tipped me off to the fact that something was wrong. Alice didn't _want_ to tell us. Her eyes darted to Edward, who was suddenly sitting straight and rock-still, and then to meet my suspicious ones, before turning to Carlisle. "It was Charlie driving to La Push. The time on the dashboard was about an hour from now. After he crosses the border into wolf territory it went blank. I don't know why I saw it." Noticing my expression, she added, "It looked like he was frazzled about something, but he seemed fine."

"Frazzled about what?"

"That was it. That's all I saw. There's nothing to worry about, Bella." Her gaze flickered to the back of Edward's head once again. "Sometimes the visions I get aren't because the event is significant in itself, but because what it sets in motion is."

"What is it setting in motion?"

"I'm not sure yet." She rubbed her head forlornly. "That's the problem."

* * *

My concern chased out the sense of mild missing that had hung at the back of my mind for months, but the effect remained: I couldn't wait to see Charlie. Carlisle pulled up at the Cullens' house, and Alice and I switched cars while the others took in the suitcases. We didn't bother with small talk, both tired from our trips and aware of how short the wait would be anyway. Before long, Edward returned and put my suitcase, now lighter in the absence of his things, in the boot before slipping into the driver's seat. "Esme says hello," he said as he put the car into gear and started backing out of the garage.

The trip home – or, rather, to Charlie's house – was passed in silence. I was too concerned with what was going on to chat, and I imagined their minds were similarly occupied. Edward kept to the speed limit, and, after the speed they usually drove, it felt like we were snails slowly inching along the gravel-asphalt hybrid. The unnerving thought that the problem might be somehow related to my return crossed my mind.

_Another reason to become a vampire and leave Charlie in peace,_ I thought, although I didn't feel the same desperate desire I used to at the prospect. Instead, it was a kind of blank acceptance. I wasn't sure whether it was because I was enjoying my studies or because I'd agreed to postpone the discussion, but now I actually _wanted_ to wait. Living with three vampires sounded like the kind of thing that would make being human feel like torture. One of my main doubts about the arrangement had been that it would be needlessly taunting, as if they'd told me I wouldn't get the proverbial carrot until the end of the road but had decided to dangle more of them in front of me anyway. However, while there were certainly times I felt inferior, it hadn't worked out like that. It was more like the carrot had stopped looking like a delicious snack and started to blend into the scenery as something that would always be ahead of me until it wasn't anymore.

Honestly, although I tried not to admit it to myself, I wasn't sure whether I _wanted_ to become a vampire anymore. It was as if my brain was so used to wanting that and not getting it that it had decided to just ignore the issue altogether. The prospect of never becoming one was still repugnant, however; I didn't want it in the foreseeable future, and I had to pick out reasons to remind myself why it was something that should happen soon, but I didn't want that door to be forever closed to me.

Was that Edward's plan all along? To try to take the lustre off vampirism until I grew complacent enough not to care about when or if I was changed?

My gaze slid over to the back of his head, where his copper hair was ruffled from leaning back against one headrest or another all day. He might be overbearing at times, but that was only because I was weak and he cared. When I finally became a vampire, that would all change. I'd be as indestructible as he was, and he wouldn't have to worry about me as much.

Vampirism might not seem so lustrous anymore, but it was still my future. I wanted to be by his side indefinitely. Whatever perks I might be discovering about my continued humanity, there would always be that reason to be changed. And, if this were a game of euchre, it would be the right bower; there was no reason it couldn't trump.

The sight of the house felt more like a homecoming than I had anticipated. It was surprising how subtly and quickly it had ingratiated itself into my life. As soon as Edward put the car into park, I unclipped my seatbelt and turned to fling open the door. Edward, of course, still beat me to it, so my hand was met with nothingness instead of the door handle it had sought. Recovering from the mild shock, I jumped out of the car and ran up to the house, pulling out my key on the way so that there was barely any hesitation between me reaching the door and sliding the key into it. I had long since given up on offering to carry my own things in; while Jasper would nod and just intervene if I was struggling, both Alice and Edward seemed to see it as a ludicrous affront. With both of them here, there was no chance of me carrying my own suitcase in, so I might as well focus on finding Charlie. "Charlie?" I called out as I opened the door. "We're home! …Are you?"

"I can't hear him," Alice said, her golden eyes looking concerned. "Bella, there's no need to worry. He's just – "

I cut her off by sharply calling out, "Charlie!" I knew that she was right, but that was irrelevant; I had to check here first.

No response came, so I went further into the house, calling out as I checked each room. It felt like a game of Marco Polo with somebody who thought you were playing Hide and Seek; he knew I was coming back today, he had said he would be home, he _should_ be home, yet he wasn't. Once I'd finished searching the house, I went back to the kitchen and, grabbing the phone automatically, started dialling. Edward was standing near the counter within a second. "Where's Alice?" I asked as I raised the phone to my ear, the familiar series of beeps creating a soothing tone.

"She's looking around outside," he replied. "My family and the wolves have been doing regular patrols since we left, but she wants to check it for herself."

The phone rang out, so I redialled and waited again. This time, Billy Black picked up on the fourth ring. His voice sounded strained but polite as he said, "Hello?"

"Hi Billy, this is Bella. I just got back, but Charlie's not here… Would you happen to know where he is?"

All traces of politeness fled, leaving behind a kind of calm wariness and veiled aggressiveness. "He's here."

"Oh. Right. Well, would I be able to talk to him?"

"Should you really be near him right now?"

"What are you… Oh. I'm not a vampire, Billy."

"I know. You wouldn't be back so soon if you were. You're still planning on it, though, aren't you? Don't you think it's better to ease him into it?" Despite his gruff words, his tone was less hostile. Apparently some part of him had, despite knowing that a newborn wouldn't be able to handle human company so soon, thought that I had already been turned.

"I don't know. We've postponed that negotiation. However, I think it's going to hurt him either way, and, if anything, it would be better for him to know I care about him rather than for him to think I don't."

Billy hesitated, before saying with resignation, "I suppose it's up to you. Just keep in mind that we're going to be the ones dealing with the fallout, not you. Charlie's not available right now. Jake's sick, so your dad and Sam are helping him get around. I'll let him know you called and I'm sure he'll be back as soon as he can."

And then, before I could ask after Jacob, he hung up. I hooked the phone back into the receiver, staring at the spot where it attached to the wall. Seth had told me once that the pack were immune to most common illnesses and that those they could still contract were usually less effective against them. It had been almost a point of pride for him; Emmett had make some comment about wolves running through the forest sniffling and sneezing like newborn pups, so Seth had swiftly disabused him of that notion. Illnesses had to be fairly severe to get past werewolf immune systems at all, let alone to the point where someone would need two adults helping them around…

The vision hadn't been about Charlie at all; it had been the closest to showing that Jacob was sick that Alice could see.

"I have to go to La Push," I told Edward, already trying to work out the quickest way to get there. My truck was still up in Alaska, Charlie would have driven his, and the Cullens couldn't cross the treaty line. I could technically borrow one of their cars, but I wouldn't feel comfortable driving something that overtly upscale through town, especially as a loan vehicle. The best option I could think of would be to ask someone from the pack to pick me up from here or from the treaty line. Edward wouldn't like dropping me off there, but I know Alice wouldn't mind.

"You can't," he said as I pulled out the list of phone numbers we kept near the phone and started scanning for the name Clearwater. Ignoring him, my thumb danced across the keypad once again, this time slower due to lack of familiarity with this particular order of digits. "You can't go to La Push, Bella," he repeated, taking the phone from my hands and cancelling the call. He returned it to its cradle. I moved to take it again, but his hand still covered it, and I knew there was no way I could ever win any kind of tug-of-war against him.

"This again? I thought we were passed this, Edward. Jake's my best friend, and he's not going to hurt me."

"He wouldn't hurt you intentionally. However, you know as well as I do that they can't always control when they change. You've seen what happened to Emily. You can't know that one of the pack won't go off at you. They're probably all on edge with Jacob being ill, and they all know you're sleeping with their enemy – metaphorically speaking, of course. I have no problem with Jacob coming to see you when he's feeling better, but it's not safe for you to go to see him."

Nothing that he said was technically incorrect. Billy's reaction on the phone was a testament to the fact that I was by no means the pack's favourite person. I tried to find something else to argue my point on. "We fought alongside them less than a year ago! You had no problem with me spending time with them then."

"That was different; they were focused on the newborns back then. Besides, that doesn't make them any less dangerous when provoked. The enemy of my enemy may be my friend, but only so long as we have a shared adversary. Victoria's gone now, Bella, and one day you're going to have to accept that this path will result in you becoming the pack's enemy."

A sense of prevailing calm swept over me, and I just knew that what was coming would be momentous. The memory of what Leslie had said to me all those months was at the forefront of my mind. The girl had been completely off base about us – she didn't know half of the story, and that half was a game-changer – but she'd had good intentions and had made some good points. I didn't want to get to the stage where I was so used to Edward making my decisions for me that I naturally looked to him for guidance on every issue. "You're right," I said. "It might not be safe; I might get hurt. But that's still my decision to make. You can't stop me from doing something because you're afraid I'll regret it later; that's not how this works."

"You don't understand, Bella. I can't just watch you do something foolish. You would feel the same if situations were reversed."

"I would, but I wouldn't _force_ you not to do it. I'm going, Edward. I'm going, and you can't stop me."

Those last five words were definitely not the smartest I'd ever said, or the most mature. Even as I said them, I knew they were a mistake, like a childish taunt offered up by somebody just waiting to get reprimanded. Still, I stormed my way towards the door. There was no way I could get to La Push without Edward's blessing; he could change his mind just before I reached the treaty line, and that still wouldn't be too late for him to stop me. But, regardless, I had to try.

A cold hand gripped my arm, gently but firmly. While it didn't physically hurt me, it did make it painfully obvious that I wasn't going anywhere. That was nothing in comparison to the realization that hit me when he started speaking, however. "I'm sorry, Bella. I won't let anyone, not even you yourself, put you in danger like that. I love you too much for that."

"Leave," I said, my voice cracking. My sorrow made it sound more like a plea than an order, but the command was still starkly clear.

"I – "

" _Now_."

"Would you like Alice to stay?"

"No. I want to be alone." I looked back at him, and I knew that my inability to lie meant that my emotions were written all over my face for him to see. That, perhaps, further fuelled the bitterness that pushed me to say, "You don't need to worry about a babysitter. It's not like I have a car anyway. I'm stuck here until Charlie returns, whether I like it or not."

His gaze lingered on me, equal parts apologetic and staunch, before he nodded and, after I shied away from his attempt to kiss my forehead, left.

* * *

It felt like my whole body was shaking as I sat down at the computer and waited for it to turn on. Whirrs filled the room as it slowly clunked into consciousness. Running my unsteady hand over the large screen, I idly wondered how long ago Charlie had bought it. It certainly hadn't been recently. He didn't use it often enough to require an upgrade, but perhaps he'd use it more if it were more easily utilizable. After what felt like hours, the home screen came up, displaying a happy photo of the two of us at my graduation.

_The internet could be improved too,_ I thought as I waited for the search browser to load.

It was all a whim, really; inconsequential in and of itself, but something that I was taking spiteful pleasure from despite that fact. Rebellion doesn't always have to make sense, however; sometimes it's enough to know that you are, in some small way or another, rebelling. For me, my petty rebellion was seriously and genuinely considering what Leslie had said. The encounter with Edward was fresh enough in my mind for a little bit of me to truly believe that there might be problems in our relationship, but I in no way thought it was abusive. Still, I entertained the notion just to get back at Edward in some small, secret way; he had, despite his repeated claims that he wanted me to have everything, taken away my freedom, so I was going to find a way to get some of it back.

I didn't expect to find anything interesting, much less anything that pertained to Edward and me. Even as I typed in 'signs of an abusive relationship' and waited for the pages to load, impatient to enact my little revenge, I truly expected to find nothing, and part of me anticipated laughing at the folly of me briefly, even half-heartedly, entertaining the notion.

As I read through the first few pages, however, and slowly felt a sick feeling grow in my chest like a flower finally in bloom, I thought that perhaps viewing it as ludicrous folly had been precisely my problem.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my brother for beta reading this.

Like a kid who's been on school holidays a little too long, I didn't know what to do. After reading so many pages of information and stories about abuse, I'd felt like I was going to implode, so I'd tottered around the house in search of things to amuse myself with. One viewing of _Emma_ later, and I was back to trying to take my mind off of things. The last thing I wanted was to be brooding over it when Charlie got back and to have to explain it all to him as well. Wriggling my toes, I looked around the room for a new distraction.

Distraction came not from my eyes, however, but rather my ears; I heard the front door creak open and the familiar sounds of Charlie entering the house while calling out a greeting. Jumping up, I ran – my equivalent of running, anyway – to the front door and to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. There was the rustle of something being put down, and then his arms were around me, too.

It was wonderful to see him again. We both knew that the feeling was mutual. For us, hugging was practically gushing words of love.

"Give me a minute, Bells – I need to close the door."

I pulled back, surveying him as he set about the task and then started on his usual routine of disassembling his gun. He looked almost the same as he did last time; he had more grey hairs, if my quick estimation was accurate, but the difference wasn't noticeable unless you looked for it. There was a sense of tiredness about him, yet also a sense of happiness, and I wondered at the source of both.

"How have you been, kid?"

"Well. _Busy._ School can get hectic sometimes. I think I did alright, though."

He finished packing up the firearm and led the way to the kitchen. I sat up on a stool, glad that it was a different environment to earlier and so another aid in fighting the never-ending dullness, while he pulled out a beer from the fridge. "I'm sure you did. Things have been like that around here, too; good, but busy."

"Yeah."

"Sorry I wasn't here when you got back. I've been going over to check on Jake every day after I clock off and I must have lost track of time."

"It's nothing. But, uh, this illness has been going on for a while?"

"About a week. He'll be fine, though, Bells. Carlisle's been to see him and said it should clear up soon. I didn't really understand his explanation, mind you, but he didn't seem concerned by it. It was kind of like a weird form of the chickenpox, in my opinion."

I tried to find something to say about the unknown condition, but my brain was so focused on worrying that I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't hint at supernatural origins. "As long as Carlisle isn't concerned," I settled for. After a moment, however, I realised the implications of what he was saying. "You said you've been going there every day? Are you going tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I figured you'd be catching up with your friends at some point and, if you don't have time to go, I could go then. Speaking of, where are Alice and Edward? I thought they'd still be here."

"They, uh, they had to go home. To see their family. Because they missed them." I hesitated, trying to suss out whether or not Charlie believed me. The excuse was perfectly valid, and actually extremely likely had the Cullens been human and so unable to visit like they had, but the delivery was – as always when it came to me and lies – somewhat lacking. Given how dangerous and underhanded my life had become since I first moved to Forks, it would probably do me some good to practice that sometime.

"Right, of course. Well, I'm sure I'll see them both soon." He was watching me carefully.

"Yeah. No doubt. I'll come with you tomorrow, by the way. I wouldn't mind seeing Jake."

"You know, it's alright to need a break from them. They're nice kids but you're bound to want some time apart sometime." Fortunately, he wasn't the type to push; Charlie knew all too well what it felt like when people tried to force you to socialise or discuss your feelings when you didn't want to. Having voiced his opinion, he simply settled back into the lounge and stared discussing the goings-on of Forks in my absence.

* * *

I couldn't remember ever going to La Push with Charlie; we usually went separately, him to see Billy and me to see the wolves. It was, however, the perfect opportunity to get there. He was the only one who I knew would drive me, and it meant that the vampires were less likely to run interference. Waylaying me was one thing, but attempting to do so to Charlie would be another entirely. The things that might work on me would mean nothing to him, and the things that might work on him weren't ones that Edward would be able to utilise with me there with him. It was as if we were fighting back to back without Charlie even knowing about it.

For the first time, I wondered if I should tell him. Aro couldn't read my mind, and he'd have no reason to read my father's, so it's not as if he would be able to find out from there.

It was, however, something that Charlie was likely to stew over, especially when in the Cullens' company. Edward would undoubtedly pick up on the fact that I'd told him, and Aro would know by the next time they met. No; however much Charlie might benefit from knowing, it just wasn't feasible. Perhaps one day, either after I'd been turned or after he was far enough away from Edward that there was no risk of accidental mind reading, but not today.

Besides, I still didn't know where I stood with Edward, which was a detail that could make all the difference to my decision.

"Just a warning: from what Carlisle said, it looks worse than it is," Charlie commented, turning into their driveway. "The scratching comes and goes. Jacob will be fine for a few hours and then get hit with another burst again."

"So it's like eczema."

"That's what I thought, but from what Carlisle said…"

"I'll ask him about it the next time I see him."

Billy met us at the door. His eyes narrowed when he saw me, but he didn't comment on it, instead merely offering a greeting before rolling his wheelchair back into the house so we could follow him in. I wasn't sure whether he was being nice due to Charlie's presence or because he knew I would see Jacob eventually anyway, but, regardless of his reasons, I was grateful for it.

"I've got some things to discuss with Charlie. Jacob's in his room if you want to head in," Billy suggested, before making his way into the kitchen with Charlie, leaving me standing alone in the entryway.

"Thanks," I called after them. Watching me intently as if he wanted to say or communicate something, Billy hesitated, before glancing at Charlie and responded to whatever the other man had said. There was really nothing I could do about it, so I walked down the wide hallway to Jacob's room. My voice was quieter as I said through the door, "Jake? It's Bella. Can I come in?"

A grumbling noise made its way through the door, and then a mumbled, "Okay."

I entered the room to the sight of Jacob lying on top of the sheets on his bed, uncharacteristically wearing not only a shirt but a sheer long-sleeved one. Rope secured his arms, which lay beside him, to the bed, and his hands clenched down on two identical stress balls. All visible skin glistened with sweat, and his eyes were clenched shut.

"Jacob," I said with faux seriousness, "I think it might be time for an intervention. What you do for fun is up to you, but when you're living alone with your father and often have visitors..."

"Don't start, Bella," he said, his voice gruff and tired. I felt bad; Jacob had always been one to inject humour into a situation, however dark it might be, and I had thought it might help cheer him up. However, I wasn't sure how long he had been sick for, or even what he was experiencing, and it wasn't fair of me to humourise his experiences like that. I was about to apologise when he chortled hollowly, apparently deciding that there was some humour to be found in the situation, however hard it might be to catch. "This probably looks like a misguided attempt to get you to reconsider dating me, but I promise you it's not."

Letting the door swing closed behind me to add an extra layer of noise protection between us and Charlie, I made my way to the armchair set up at the side of his bed and sunk into it with a sad sigh. Apparently, this was my life now; danger and sickbeds and fear. I wondered when and how it had all gotten so messed up, how it had turned from dating somebody I liked who happened to be a vampire to living in a jungle of dangerous supernatural tundra. "What happened to you? Charlie doesn't know, so I assume it's pack-related."

"You have to promise not to laugh."

"If it's anything as serious as it looks, I doubt I'd want to."

He opened his bloodshot eyes and took my appearance in, before looking down at his restrained right hand. After a moment, he mumbled something quietly, too quietly for me to hear.

"Pardon?"

"I have fleas."

"I – what?" A startled half-laugh escaped my throat, but I clamped down on the sound, not wanting to give him any reason not to continue with his explanation.

"Claire brought her new puppy to the res for Quil to meet. I was in wolf form at the time. It kept bounding everywhere, and apparently it had fleas that decided hopping over to me would be like upsizing their house. I started scratching about a week ago, and the bloodsucker doctor put it together a few days afterwards."

I decided to give him a pass on that slight; he felt miserable, and it didn't seem like a good time to correct him on it. "But you're in human form now. How…?"

"Let's just say I know how drug addicts feel when they describe itchiness under their skin. The doctor has prescribed some medicine to flush it out – he made some adjustments to something he found in a book – but it will take about a week. The pack and Charlie have all been helping me get around, and this is so I won't scratch myself when nobody's around. So I have four days of _this_ to go."

"Couldn't you just, you know, break the rope?"

"Easily, but then I'd have to explain it to Charlie. Besides, Paul suggested using Charlie's handcuffs if I get out of these, and I'd rather not give him another opportunity to mock me."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Anything to keep my mind off of it. Just… Let's just talk. How have you been?"

* * *

It was mindless, it was drivel, but it was distracting, which was exactly what I needed that afternoon. Seeing Jacob had, while in one way acting like a balm, felt like one more arrow in the week's barrage, and a ceasefire felt long past due. Although Charlie technically had the day off, he also had paperwork to catch up on, so he had retired into the study after lunch to get through some of it, leaving me to my own devices. Unable to focus long enough to read, I had decided to use the alone time to watch television. It wasn't a particularly common pastime for the Cullens, so I hadn't indulged in it much since leaving for college. Being able to turn your mind off and just immerse yourself in some melodramatic reality TV show was, in my opinion, both disconcerting and wonderful. It was a waste of time and brain cells, but at times like that I was grateful for the reprieve.

The phone rang, overcutting a judge's critique so that I would likely never know his opinion on the length of time the dish was cooked for, and I could hear Charlie moving around on his way to answer it. A few moments later, he stuck his head through the door, a slightly disgruntled look on his face. "It's Edward. He wants to talk to you." Despite his continued obvious dislike, I had noticed that he'd been trying to rein it in since I'd been back. Apparently, you can tell that your daughter's boyfriend is someone who is probably going to stick around and so someone you should probably tolerate when she goes off to college with him. "Bells – wait, what are you _watching_?"

"There was nothing else on," I said defensively. "Well, nothing better on, anyway. Just sports and more reality shows."

"Sports," he replied seriously, "are always infinitely better than that."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe if you can actually play without spraining something, which, as we both know, I cannot. As it is, I watch a sports game and get, like, phantom pain from all the hits I would have taken."

An answering chuckle sounded. "You are extraordinarily bad at sports."

"Yeah. I think my PE teacher at school thought I was putting it on for a while there."

Charlie's gaze scanned my face, taking me in. I almost felt like a suspect or victim he had to question, a sensation that I had become all too familiar with in my time living there. "Are you alright, Bells? You'd usually jump at the chance to talk to Edward. Do you want me to tell him you're in the shower?"

"I'm fine. We just had a fight yesterday, that's all. I don't really want to talk to him right now, but I should."

"You don't have to if you don't want to." That look is back, the look that says that he suspects that there's more than I'm not admitting to, that he's not going to push but that he's still on the lookout anyway.

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging gently at the knots it came across, before standing up. It was so tempting to take up Charlie's offer of feigning busyness. However, I wasn't a kid anymore, and I was too old to keep letting a parent ward off those kinds of battles for me. Part of fighting back to back with someone was the handling the difficulties that came your way. "No, I… I mean it. I should – I need to talk to him."

"If you're sure." He still sounded sceptical, but he accepted it. I didn't know whether it was because he knew it was my decision or because he was hoping that, given that we were obviously on tenterhooks, the conversation would result in my telling Edward to give me space.

Either way, I wasn't sure, but that didn't mean I didn't have to at some point. It might as well be then. I made my way to the phone and, steeling myself, answered it. "Hello Edward."

"Bella. How are you?"

"Is that really what you're going with right now?" My voice was rising, and I noticed that Charlie was listening from the other room. Whispering now, I added, "You practically marooned me here, Edward."

"I'm sorry, but it was – "

" _Don't_ say necessary."

"Would it be alright if I visited you this afternoon?" After what felt like a millisecond to me but probably much longer to his higher capacity brain, he added, "If you need more time, I can wait. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

A response eluded me. I didn't want him to come over, not yet, but delaying it would just mean I was less fired up when it came down to it and so more likely to easily capitulate to his arguments. "Give me a second." Putting the phone down, I popped my head around the door. "Charlie, do you mind if the Cullens come over? I was thinking of asking Carlisle and Esme as well."

"That's fine. I can call for takeaway if you want – "

"No, that's alright. They'd have eaten already. I can just make some snacks if they get hungry." I returned to the phone and briskly told him, "Your family is welcome."

Another pause. When he spoke, his tone was careful and controlled. I wondered what he was thinking, what he thought the reason behind the uncharacteristic request was. The plan had been to distance ourselves from Charlie in the lead up to my change, not to encourage get-togethers that might later complicate the separation. "Rosalie, Emmett, Alice and Jasper are out hunting. The others should be able to come."

"Alright. Having less people is probably better anyway. I'll see you at three."

* * *

The real reason behind the request was that I had finally been hit by the realization of just how dangerous an enraged vampire could be, and that I wanted his family there in case things went sour. It wasn't that I expected him to hurt me; in fact, I knew he wouldn't. However, that knowledge did little to fight off the sceptical part of me that insisted that perhaps I _should_ be worried about that, or the logical part that insisted that diligence beat out carelessness any day of the week.

Sitting across from Edward as we listened to Charlie chat with Carlisle and Esme, however, I realised that I hadn't thought things through extensively enough; out of courtesy, the conversation should really be out of the Cullens' hearing range, but then that would defeat the purpose of having them nearby in the first place. For someone who had always prided myself on my forethought, I had been awfully bad at planning for the past few years.

_Of course,_ I thought as I stared at Edward, meeting his eyes squarely and just knowing that he was frustrated that he couldn't read my mind to see what this was about, _it's not like any of this classes as a normal circumstance._

"Where are the other kids?" Charlie asked.

"They decided to go camping overnight to catch up with one another."

"They'd better be careful. There's been some bear sightings recently."

"They know what to watch out for," Carlisle said smoothly.

"Why didn't you go with them, Edward?" Charlie asked, conversationally rather than accusatorily; apparently, he'd decided that this, when I was starting to question everything, was the time to begin to accept Edward.

"I decided to spend the morning with Esme and Carlisle."

"That was nice of you."

"Not really," he disagreed. "I missed them too. It was as much for me as it was for them; rather selfish, really."

"What he calls selfish, we call sweet," Esme said, smiling at him fondly.

It felt too natural and too unnatural at the same time, resulting in the overall feeling of it just being too _much_. It felt like a conversation normal people would have, with the families of both partners getting together to talk and gush over their kids. It felt too serious and casually accepting for the conversation that was about to come up. Yet, on the other hand, it felt strange; Charlie was _accepting Edward_ , was having a nice conversation with and about him. That was something I'd long since given up on. It was the eeriness of the two mixed together that did it, that prompted me to act. "Hey, Edward, do you want to go for a walk? Just around the yard."

"If it's alright with your father."

Charlie looked at him sceptically, before simply saying, "Of course it is."

As we left the room, I felt like a teenager on my first date; I had no idea what to do with my hands, how fast to walk, anything. My mind analysed every little thing I did to try to work out whether Edward, or his parents, or Charlie, would be able to discern something telling from my body language. Which no doubt, counterproductively, made me look more suspicious than I would have if I hadn't worried at all.

We walked in silence until we reached the swing, which drifted slightly in the breeze. Then, I turned to face Edward, noting immediately the strange look on his face. It was like it wasn't sure whether to look amused or guilty, and had instead settled on some mismatched combination of the two.

"Charlie thinks I'm trying to get on his good side so I can ask for his permission to propose," Edward commented idly. Despite his casual tone, however, he watched me carefully.

"What? But he knows… There's no _way_ I'd get married this young."

He looked wary, and I wondered what he had seen in Alice's visions. Did he know what was going to happen? "Bella, this plan – feigning a car crash… It's going to destroy Charlie, and I don't think you realise how much."

"I do know. I get it. But that's my risk to weigh up, and I've made my decision."

"Bella – "

" _No,_ Edward. I'm done with waiting. When I go back in there, I'm going to tell Charlie that Alice and I are planning to travel to Italy at the end of the year, and that you and Jasper are considering coming too. It's your choice whether or not you go, but, regardless, I _am_ going and I _am_ asking Aro to change me. This is what I want, Edward." I turned and started walking back to the house, my pace slow. I didn't want him to realise this was a test, but at the same time I needed to wait around long enough to get his reaction.

As it turned out, I didn't need to bother; his hand darted out, quick as a pouncing cat, to close around mine. "Bella, you can't."

"Why is it your decision," I asked, my heart breaking, "when it's my future?"

"Because you're making the wrong decision. This is too important a choice for you to get it wrong."

I swore, shocking us both, as I whirled around to face him.

"You sound like the chief elder from _The Giver_. I don't think you realise that she's the _villain_. You don't lose your right to autonomy because you're not using it the way somebody else wants you to."

He looked shocked, and more than a little hurt. I doubted that the elder would have thought she was the villain of the piece, either; villains so rarely did. Edward had been so focused on whether or not his vampirism, his bloodlust, made him a bad person that he hadn't considered whether his actions did.

And I'd been so focused on reassuring him that it didn't that I hadn't thought about it much, either.

"I'm not – "

I could feel my heart pounding and the jitters in my chest. This was one of the most important moments in my life, and I – despite the feeling of dread hidden away in the back of my mind – told myself that I didn't know which way it was going to go. "Edward, you need to let me make my own choices. At some point, you're going to have to accept that I'm going to be doing things you don't think are safe for me to do. And, the way I see it, that point has to be now." In a vain attempt to stop him from seeing the tears leaking from my eyes like droplets from a broken tap, I glanced down, and I noticed that my hands were shaking. _It's strange that I couldn't feel it,_ I thought, feeling almost disconnected from my body. Instead of fighting the sensation, I embraced it, using it to help give me the strength to continue. "Ironically enough, I need you to make a decision for both of us right now. You need to either respect my decisions – whatever they may be – or you need to leave."

His whole body seemed to revert to stone, until he was staring at me, unmoving, like a perfect gargoyle. I had only ever seen him like that when he was either too shocked or too deep in thought to remember to act human.

It was startling to know that my question was either shocking or complicated enough to inspire such a resolute I had bolstered myself up to being, I hadn't been expecting that to be a difficult question. That was supposed to be the easy part; the hard part was supposed to be him proving that he could respect them, not him deciding whether or not he thought he could. Part of me was glad that he was obviously taking my request seriously, that he wasn't just going to give me hurried platitudes that would fall through the first time they encountered even a lick of fire. Whatever he said would still have to be thrown into the flame to see whether it came out as cinders or ingots, but it was reassuring to know he wasn't going to knowingly give me fodder.

* * *

Sleep eluded me, racing around like a tantalising treat that I had to strain myself to reach. The ironic part, of course, is that he more you actively try to force yourself to sleep, the harder it becomes for your brain to settle down into it. Every few hours, I managed to catch it by its flickering tail and savour the calm bliss, but then it always slipped free from my grasp, leaving me staring, wide and unhappily awake, at the peaked ceiling of my bedroom, my mind working against itself by replaying that conversation even as it tried to hide from it.

Groaning, I rubbed my hands against my eyes, as if that might somehow erase the memory like an unintended pencil mark. It hadn't been what I'd wanted, but it wasn't as easy as simply writing over what had happened. It wasn't the sort of thing you could just take back. Things would be irrevocably different now.

The golden hue of sunlight peeked through the gap between my curtains and the wall, sending an illuminating stripe across my bed. As my hands flopped back onto my stomach, my gaze dropped down to my left hand, to that finger on which we as a society place so much importance.

Knowing that there was no way I'd be able to get back to sleep, I stumbled – quite literally – out of bed, found my laptop, and, pulling the curtains open, set myself up in my desk chair facing the outside world. I emailed Leslie first; I wasn't sure why, given that I still didn't necessarily _like_ her, but I knew that she would understand more than any of my other human acquaintances. Then, I scoured the university website for information on accommodation. When that was done, I got lost in the metaphysical grid of the internet; I must have looked at over a hundred pictures of baby animals, only stopping when the orange-gold hues of sunlight started making patterns in the sky. Opening them wide, I sat in front of the locked window, watching the colours of the sunrise play out across the horizon.


	7. Epilogue: Clear Skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep; I only just realised that I never actually uploaded this. Anyway, here it is.

I sat on the low brick retaining wall, immersed in the world of _Romeo and Juliet_ once again. Their words and speaking patterns were so foreign, with the notes scribbled in the margins as a reminder of my schooldays acting as my guide, yet their rhythm was so soothing. The concept of forbidden love and youthful recklessness didn't appeal to me nearly as much anymore; it had seemed so exciting back when we first studied it, but now it merely seemed naïve and foolhardy. Now, all I could think about was how their marriage wouldn't have successfully lasted after the end of the play, even if they themselves had.

_'Therefore love moderately, for long love doth so.'_

In class, that line had sounded so boring and _old_ , the teachings of a confused adult who would never be able to understand, but now… Well, now I was starting to get it.

I had been rereading a lot of my old favourites lately, reanalysing them through the lens of my new insights and experiences. It was humbling to realise how, regardless of my purported cleverness, fancifully mistaken I had been. My teenage self had been so sure of herself and her ability to distinguish between fables and real life, but now many stories that had seemed like perfect guides to life at the time instead seemed like foolish, mistaken dreams. In my defence, my own foolish dream had been attainable, dangling barely a metre in front of me like the carrot hanging before the donkey. If I had gone to Aro and then returned to Edward once it was too late for him to do anything about it, I would have gotten both dreams; after all, after the sleeping comes the dreaming. But, like Hamlet mused, that dreaming wouldn't have been as idyllic as it could have been; like he feared that suicide might damn him to hell, I rather suspected that making Aro bite me would have locked me into a state of perpetual abuse. The memory of the fantasies that I had given up still occasionally haunted me like a bad aftertaste, but all I had to do was remember what I had gained from the decision in order to feel better about it. I may have lost a lot, but I had gained a lot more.

"Hello Bella."

That familiar voice felt almost like a physical blow, its honeyed tones at war with my visceral nervous reaction. "I – oh… Hello, Edward." It was strange seeing him there. He had told me that he planned to wait out the semester before transferring another college or dropping out altogether, so I'd known there was still a chance of running into him accidentally, but so far we'd been able to avoid seeing each other. Or, at least, we'd been able to avoid _me_ seeing _him_ ; I had no doubt he had been keeping an eye on me, either from afar or through Alice's memories.

"Are you well?" His tone was polite, controlled. "My last exam is tomorrow, and then I'm heading back to Forks. We'll probably leave for Alaska within the month. I wanted to see you before I left," he pulled a neatly cut and folded square piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me, "and to give you this. Our mobile numbers will be the same, but this is the landline for where we're going, in case there's any danger or you want to talk to anyone."

"Thanks," I muttered, holding it uncertainly for a moment before slipping it into my own pocket. It felt like some illicit trade, cash payments for black market goods or secret notes passed while the teacher wasn't looking. Still, I was glad they weren't cutting off all contact with me again; I hardly expected to need to use the number, but it was reassuring to have it nonetheless. Looking back up at him, I felt myself blush in discomfort at his scrutiny. Edward was still ethereally beautiful, his voice as soothing as ever. I didn't feel the need to kiss or hug him anymore, but there was still the urge to go wherever he said and do whatever he wanted. I wasn't sure whether that was the result of lingering feelings or merely of his vampiric allure, but it made me uncomfortable. It had been my hope that one day we'd be able to be in Forks at the same time again, even if we avoided one another, but I was beginning to think that had been too optimistic a dream. "I'm fine. You?"

"I've been much better, but I've been much worse, too."

"And isn't _that_ the way of things?" The jest, accompanied with the broad grin of someone who has finished their last exam, only seemed to increase the awkwardness, so I laughed uneasily as Liam came up beside me. He looked tired from a late night spent studying, but his happiness and relief seemed almost tangible. "I'm so glad that exam's over. Thanks for hanging back, sweetheart."

"No problem. I only finished fifteen minutes ago, anyway. Liam, this is Edward. I've mentioned him before. Edward; my boyfriend, Liam."

"Oh, right. Nice to meet you." Liam held out his hand for Edward's, and I noticed him blink in surprise and shiver slightly when they touched. By the time their handshake was over, his expression was back to its normal content self.

"You too. I've heard a lot about you – from Alice."

_More like from reading her mind, and everyone else's._

"Your sister's fantastic." He glanced down at me and must have noticed my uncomfortable expression, because he added, "Bella, I might head off to finish packing. Do you want – ?"

"I'll come with you. I have some things to finish, too. I'm glad you're doing alright, Edward."

And, with that, we left.

"Are _you_ alright?" Liam asked quietly as we walked away. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his side, as he watched me with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Glancing over my shoulder and confirming that Edward was still well within hearing distance, I added, "Can we talk about it later? I'd rather hear about your exam first."

* * *

"I'm really sorry," I said to Liam when we'd reached his dorm room and I was sitting on his chair, my legs curled up towards my chest, and watching him pack. "I know I shouldn't have been talking to him, but I really didn't expect to see him."

He paused in his perusal of his bookcase, a worn paperback novel in his hand, to look at me in shock. "Why would you apologise for that? Talking is talking. Would you have run off into the sunset with him if I hadn't arrived?"

"No, of course not."

He shrugged, before tossing the book onto the pile of soon-to-be-packed stuff on his bed and turning back to the bookcase. "Then it's up to you."

"But – "

"I trust you not to cheat. As far as I'm concerned, it's up to you who your friends are."

"I know. It's just he's my ex, so…"

"Still your choice."

The conversation was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. I'd told Liam a little about my relationship with Edward, and I could tell he'd guessed a bit more, but it was a topic we rarely brought up; I didn't like talking about it, and there was no need to. He had a thoughtful expression on his face, the kind that he got when my words hinted at another hidden element of the relationship and he found, in them, the next piece of the jigsaw puzzle. It was hard to begrudge him his deduction, though, when I knew it was out of genuine concern with no motive other than seeking to understand me. "Um, just a warning, the people in Forks – my school friends especially – can be really inquisitive when there's a new person. I felt like a ring in the midst of a tiding of magpies, and they all already vaguely knew who I was; they're going to absolutely flock to you."

"It'll be nowhere near as bad as what my parents will be like when you meet them. More people, but a more dispersed interest."

"I suppose."

"I am a bit worried about your father, though. Any tips for impressing him?"

_Oh,_ I thought, _you have no idea how easy it'll be for you. All you'll have to do is breathe and he'll be taken with you._

My break up with Edward had, while eventually benefiting me, put Charlie and me in a dangerous situation. The Volturi still expected the Cullens to change me, and they were unlikely to see a change in relationship status as a satisfactory reason to void the agreement; quite the opposite, if anything, I'd assume. When talking to Jacob about the issue, he had remembered an old pack tradition wherein humans who were closely tied to the pack could become honorary pack mates. Or, more accurately, he'd remembered the fact that its range wasn't just limited to imprints or elders. The beauty of the situation was that honorary pack members, just like actual ones, were seen as entitled to know of the existence of werewolves – and, by extension, of vampires; they were therefore not subject to laws regarding the regulation of knowledge about the existence of supernatural creatures. It hadn't taken long at all for Jacob to convince the elders to induct Charlie and me; as soon as they realised that it was the only way to prevent me from being forced to become a vampire, they had unanimously agreed to it.

Of course, that meant that Charlie had had to be _told_ about it – and that he was free to be told about the vampires. He had been horrified at how close I had come to death, or undeath, albeit more grateful to Alice and Carlisle for what they'd done to protect me over the years.

According to Alice, Aro had been furious when he'd found out, increasing the tension between the Volturi and the alliance of vegetarian vampire families. Still, he didn't have a way to justify an investigation to his followers, and he knew that the Cullens and the Denali clan would come back to fight with the wolf pack if he tried to press ahead with an unjustified attack.

Given his newfound knowledge of the situation, I was sure that Charlie would be content with Liam as soon as he found out he was completely and utterly human and had no criminal record to speak of. Of course, I couldn't just tell Liam that Charlie would merely be happy with knowing that my boyfriend had a beating heart this time around.

"You'll be fine," I reassured him. "He knows you're not a criminal. He likes fishing, so don't insult that. Also, he really likes my best friend Jacob and his dad, so if you befriend Jake…"

"Alright. Remind him of my lack of criminal record, ask him about fishing, and get along with the people he respects; got it."

He wasn't my usual taste; he was neither as politely old-fashioned and accomplished as Edward nor as outgoing and daring as Jacob. Instead, he was a strange mix of respectful and casual, of well-read and social. It had taken a while for me to appreciate his traits for what they were, let alone to fall for them. But, then again, some tastes are worth acquiring. His hand wasn't freezing cold, but it wasn't scorching hot either; like Goldilocks, the third time felt just right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretentious Shakespearereference harkening back to my high school days, yay! So, the line, _'Therefore love moderately, for long love doth so,'_ (said by Father Lawrence in Act 2 Scene 6) is, like, the only line I remember liking from that play. I'm not sure whether I fully agree with the implication that fiery love always burns itself out, but love the reminder that there has to be something more than attraction and infatuation for a relationship to last. I tried to think of a less pretentious quote to reference, but wanted it to be from the pool of texts that Bella is mentioned as reading or watching at some point in the saga, so… _Romeo and Juliet_ it is.
> 
> Thank you so much to my brother for beta reading this.


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